#now I'll i have to do is drag and drop its crazy

[sucknizzo]

//down by the sea is where you drown your scars//

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

WAIT I LOVE THAT PUSHUP FIC. can you do one with Gaz and the reader daring him to say their name in between push-ups, and Gaz catches on, but does it anyways.

10 / 1,186 words / takes place immediately after doing push-ups with Gaz

...

You watch Gaz from the corner of your eye, listening to him say your name in that low voice with each rep, grunting with concentration. Music to your ears. 

His toned arms are tense with each push-up he executes. Gaz doesn’t work out to be buff or get attention. It’s all about function and utility on the battlefield for him, which means he’s not one for showing off. But you appreciate it, and you can tell he notices it by the smirk curving his lips.

He knows what you're doing. He knows exactly why you made that little request of him.

"You want me to keep going?" he asks. 

"I have no problem with that.”

"Can't imagine you would."

"Hey. Less talking; more counting reps."

"Did I say I was in the market for a personal trainer?"

"I think you did, in fact," you tell him facetiously. You're still sprawled over his back, admiring how your weight barely seems to affect him each time he lowers and then pushes himself back up. "Lucky you have me here to keep you on track."

"Yeah, lucky me." He grunts a laugh and does another pushup. "Because that's my problem. Staying on track."

"I hear a lot of chatter and not enough saying my name between reps, mm?"

"Think I'd better stop doing that. You like it too much."

"And you said you wanted a challenge. Do you cut corners in the field, too? Does Captain Price know?"

He lowers himself again and holds at the bottom for a moment to increase the tension and stress on his muscles. "You're asking for it, you know that?"

You smirk, shifting yourself a little to fit more snugly against the curve of his back. "Are you threatening me, Gaz?"

"You wish." He chuckles, hardly sounding as winded as he should. "You'd be lucky for me to pay you that much attention."

He's not wrong. But still, the nerve.

Luckily, you notice you haven't heard him counting aloud, either. "What rep are you on now?"

He pauses at the bottom of his rep, then lifts up again, not quite as fast as before. "Sixty-three."

"Liar. You lost count, didn't you?"

"Of course not. You think you're really that distracting?"

You grin. "You said it, not me."

He pauses his rep at its apex this time. You glance at him, sensing the gears turning in his head. For a second, you wonder if you should be proud of yourself--if you've struck him speechless with your blistering wit.

Then he bends his elbow and drops one shoulder almost to the floor, dumping you unceremoniously off his back. You land ungracefully on your stomach with a gasp.

There's a strange look in his eye. Thirst for vengeance. You scramble to right yourself, but it's too late. Gaz drags you off the ground like it's nothing and pulls your back to his chest. He wraps his much thicker arm around your bicep and leans back, forcing your arm over your head in what you vaguely recognize as a submission hold.

You huff, trying to squirm free. His other arm comes around across your midsection to keep you in place. The fact that you're pinned in his lap doesn't escape you.

"Now who’s the distracted one?" His voice is right at your ear. "You want to tell me again how many reps I did?"

"Fifty-five. I counted."

His grip tightens. He leans back just a little more, causing your back to arch. "Try again."

You grab his arm with your free hand and try to dislodge it. Its no good. His arms are like steel. He doesn't budge an inch. 

"Told you you were asking for it." His breath is warm on the shell of your ear. "Count again. Or I'll turn this half nelson into a full nelson."

Your cheeks warm. "Perv."

"You started it. Or don't you want me to say your name again?"

"I have a perfectly innocent explanation for that."

"Let's hear it, then. Go on."

"Um." You squirm a little more in his hold. His breath in your ear is making you feel crazy. "It's actually... because..."

"Because?" He's smiling now, his arm tightening against your skin. You can feel every thick muscle in his biceps and forearms. "Because what?"

You struggle to keep some kind of half-baked explanation centered in your mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't think about his chest pressing flush to your back. Or his thighs squishing your ass. Or his arm around your midsection, so close to your breasts you swear he'd brush the underside if he so much as flexed.

"Because what?" He asks again, and his voice is so husky it makes you forget all your rational thoughts. "Tell me."

"... Sixty-three," you mutter.

He laughs, the rumble of it shaking his chest against your back. "So which one of us lost count, boss?"

"I did."

"Yeah, you did." He shifts, easing the pressure on your arm. He doesn't release it completely, though. "If you wanted to hear my voice so bad, there are better ways to ask, yeah?" His other hand begins to wander down your side. Your skin burns under your workout tank. "But if you want to be a cheeky little brat about it..."

Before you can react, he bites down on your ear. Not cute and flirty, but hard enough that it hurts. Especially when you squawk and try to pull away.

"Ow!" You shove your elbow into his solar plexus.

He lets go of your arm, gasping and wheezing with laughter as he leans back. You're both surprised at how much force you packed into that elbow jab.

He smiles, though. His heart is racing from adrenaline, and when he looks at you, all pouty and out of breath, he realizes it's a good thing he's not still holding you or he might really do something stupid. He likes how quick you are, how feisty.

"That's mean," you snap.

"And calling me a pervert wasn't?"

"No! And even if it was, your thing was worse."

"Oh, yeah?" His usual soft grin turns roguish. "You wanna get even? Bite me back?"

"Gaz!"

"Then you still owe me." He stands up, stretching until his tired arm muscles pop. "So I'd better see you here tomorrow, same time. What do you say?"

You stand slowly, watching him grab his gym bag. "What if I say no?"

"I'd say you're shirking your duties as my trainer. And my counterweight. Besides, you wouldn't skip a chance to have me say your name again." He pulls the straps up over his shoulders and winks at you. "Right, boss?"

You open your mouth and close it right back up again.

Gaz has just enough self-control not to bite his lip at that rather cute expression. "Good."

He walks away, leaving you red-faced and speechless behind him.

He's right. You'll definitely be back tomorrow.

...

part 1 / [part 2] / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[ckret2]

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

####

There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison." 

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising. 

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive. 

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing. 

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie. 

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

[elikajinnie]

You Know You Should Not Have Survived That, Right? | Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader Part 3

Part 3 of 4

P: Ghostface!Heeseung X Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, stalking, obsessive/ possessive behaviour, blood/injury, violence, graphic descriptions, attempted murder, murder, kidnapping, mature themes, PLOTWISTS, IDOL CAMEOS!! i kinda went crazy with this...

Wordcount: 25.5k

Synopsis: In a quiet town where the shadows of the past seem to linger, you finally feel a sense of safety after surviving the horrors of Ghostface years ago. However, that peace is shattered when mysterious disappearances begin. One by one, people vanish without a trace, their fates linked to the haunting legacy of Ghostface, which begins to resurface. The past is not buried; it’s clawing its way back to haunt you.

a/n: this was way more complicated to write.. it was supposed to be dropped yesterday for Heeseungs bday! but i saw terrifer 3 so a setback! :/

REMEMBER!; This is purely fictional and just for fun. I do not wish any harm upon any characters.

please read part 1 & 2 first . playlist

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Heeseung turned sharply after you slipped away, his heart racing as he faced Taehyung. The sight of his friend, bloodied and hurt, only fueled the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. Taehyung let out a twisted laugh, his voice taunting. “I was one step ahead of you…” With a soft urgency, Heeseung leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Stay with me, angel…” His eyes, usually warm, now burned with a fierce determination. He stood up, the tension crackling around him, and strode toward Taehyung. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, Heeseung pulled him to his feet with a fierce grip. “Hey! Hey! Let go!” Taehyung shouted, struggling against Heeseung’s hold, but his resistance was futile. Without a word, Heeseung dragged Taehyung toward the edge of the forest, the shadows growing deeper around them. When they reached a secluded spot, Heeseung released Taehyung, sending him sprawling onto the forest floor. Heeseung produced a knife, its blade glinting in the faint light as he twirled it effortlessly in his hand. “You will pay for what you did to Y/N…” Heeseung’s voice was low and steady, each word laced with a chilling promise. Taehyung's bravado crumbled as fear crept into his eyes, realizing the gravity of the situation.

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A woman sat alone in an empty office building, idly filing her nails while chatting on the phone. The monotony of the task at hand contrasted with the lively conversation she was having. "Yes, I know, it's completely crazy how she did that!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

As she glanced up, the ceiling light above her cubicle flickered ominously. Wrinkling her nose, she looked down at her nails, scrutinizing them before setting the nail file aside on her desk. "Yes, I know, Nayeon… I will," she continued, nodding along to the conversation.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed from somewhere in the darkened office. Her head whipped around, her body tensing as she froze in place. She was supposed to be alone, finishing up some last-minute documents. "Soo-ah?" Nayeon's voice crackled through the phone. "I'll call you back, Nayeon," Soo-ah said hastily, ending the call and standing up to peer over her cubicle wall.

The only illumination came from the flickering ceiling light above her and the glow of her computer screen. "Hello? Is somebody there?" she called out, her voice quivering slightly. Silence greeted her, making the emptiness of the office feel even more oppressive. She sat back down, trying to focus on her computer, but another loud thud broke her concentration.

Her nerves frayed, Soo-ah glanced at the clock on her computer screen. It read 2:15 a.m.—far too late for anyone else to be in the office. Rising again, she cautiously peeked around the corner of her cubicle, just in time to see a dark figure woosh past. Gasping, she jerked back in surprise and hurriedly ducked under her desk, clutching her phone tightly.

The silence was suffocating as she waited, heart pounding in her chest. Gathering her courage, she was about to peek out from under the desk when the light above her suddenly cracked. Sparks flew down, showering her in a brief, terrifying burst of light before plunging her into darkness. She gasped, the darkness closing in around her.

With a resolve borne of sheer fear, Soo-ah slowly crawled out from under her desk. She needed to get out of the office, away from whatever was lurking in the shadows. She moved cautiously, making her way in the opposite direction from where she had seen the shadow. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and her eyes darted around, straining to see through the darkness.

Soo-ah crawled to the end of the aisle and rounded the corner, facing the large window that overlooked the city. The faint glow of the streetlights outside barely illuminated the dark office, offering her a sliver of visibility. She sat for a moment, catching her breath, before carefully standing up and peeking over the cubicles. Seeing nothing, she continued to crawl, her goal set on reaching the elevator or the stairs.

She halted when she reached what she thought was a wall. But it wasn't a wall. Looking up, her eyes widened in horror as she saw a person standing in front of her. The figure wore a white twisted mask, holding a hunting knife that gleamed menacingly in the dim light. "Fuck," Soo-ah whispered, panic lacing her voice.

The masked figure swung the knife at her, slashing her shoulder. Pain erupted from the wound, and she screamed, bolting upright and running. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Soo-ah repeated frantically, grabbing objects from desks and throwing them behind her, trying to slow down her pursuer. But the person continued their relentless chase, their footsteps echoing in the empty office.

She glanced back, only to crash into something solid. Turning quickly, she looked up and gasped. Another person, identical to the first, stood before her, their mask twisted into a wide, mocking smirk. Terror gripped her heart as she realized there were two of them. "There's two of you!?" she said fearfully, her voice barely more than a whimper.

The figure in front of her lunged, stabbing her in the stomach. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, the pain too intense for sound to escape. The knife was pulled out, and she collapsed onto the floor, her phone sliding from her grasp. The screen lit up, showing Nayeon trying to call her back, the name on the screen a cruel reminder of the normalcy she had just moments ago.

Soo-ah lay helplessly on the cold floor, her vision blurring as she looked up at the two killers who stood over her. They tilted their heads in unison, a chilling and unnatural movement. "Nighty-night," one of them said in a deep, mocking tone before he plunged the knife into her again.

Darkness consumed her vision as the pain faded, leaving only the cold embrace of death. The last thing she saw was the white masks, their twisted expressions permanently etched into her mind as her body grew cold.

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You sit in the corner of a bustling café, fingers tapping away at your keyboard, half-listening to the faint hum of chatter around you through your noise-cancelling headphones. People come and go, ordering their coffees, catching up with friends, but you remain focused, immersed in your work. It’s your usual routine—tune everything out, lose yourself in the flow, and get things done.

After what feels like hours, you decide to take a break, leaning back in your chair and stretching your arms. Pulling up a news site, you scroll absentmindedly until a headline catches your eye: "Another Disappearance Shakes Local Office: Young Woman Missing After Late-Night Shift." Your stomach sinks.

Clicking on the article, you quickly skim through the details. A young woman had vanished after 12 a.m. on Tuesday, leaving nothing but a pool of blood and her phone behind. Your frown deepens as you take in the chilling words.

“God dammit…” you mutter under your breath, rubbing your eyes in frustration. This was the third disappearance this month.

You sit there for a moment, staring blankly at the screen. The café noise fades into the background as your thoughts linger on the article. Three disappearances in one month. It didn’t make sense—people vanishing without a trace, no clear leads, only fear spreading like wildfire.

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking about the woman’s last moments, about the blood, the phone left behind. But the more you think about it, the more your chest tightens, an anxious buzz settling in the back of your mind. There’s no use dwelling on it, you tell yourself. Nothing you can do from here.

Shaking your head, you push the thoughts aside and turn back to your laptop. The work needs to get done, and you’re already behind schedule. You place your fingers back on the keyboard, forcing yourself to focus, typing slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed as you sink back into the rhythm.

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When you get home, the soft meow of Ddongsik greets you as he weaves between your legs, rubbing his head affectionately against you. You smile down at him, bending to give him a gentle scratch behind his ears. "Hello, sweetie," you say, your voice soft as you stroke his fur.

After slipping off your shoes and shrugging out of your jacket, you walk into the living room and find Heeseung lounging on the couch, controller in hand, eyes fixed on the TV screen. He glances over his shoulder at you and grins. "Welcome home!"

You walk over to him, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thanks," you murmur, before heading toward the bedroom. Heeseung chuckles softly, already turning back to his game as you make your way to take a much-needed shower.

After your shower, the warmth from the water leaves you feeling relaxed, and you slip into your most comfortable clothes—a loose t-shirt and soft sweatpants. Padding back into the living room, you find Heeseung still on the couch, focused on his game but looking peaceful. You settle beside him, tucking your legs under you, and lean your head against his shoulder.

He pauses the game and turns to you with a smile, sensing you have something on your mind. "Feeling better?" he asks, shifting slightly to make room for you to get comfortable.

"Yeah, much better," you say, giving him a soft smile before your expression turns more serious. "I was reading about something earlier at the café… there’s been another disappearance."

Heeseung frowns, his brow furrowing in concern as he processes your words. "Another one? Like the ones from before?"

You nod. "Yeah, same situation. A young woman. She was working late, disappeared past midnight. They found blood and her phone, but nothing else." Your voice lowers as the weight of it settles between you.

Heeseung goes quiet, his gaze shifting from the TV to the floor as he grows thoughtful. His thumb taps lightly on the controller in his hand, but his mind is clearly elsewhere now.

"That’s… weird," he mutters after a pause.

In the days that follow, you begin to notice a shift in Heeseung. He becomes more thoughtful, his usual easygoing nature clouded with something heavier. It starts small—he’d sit quietly for longer stretches, his mind elsewhere even when the two of you were just relaxing or watching TV. But soon, it becomes more noticeable. He starts glancing over his shoulder more often, even when you’re just walking around the neighborhood or running errands together.

At first, it’s subtle. A quick look behind when you’re out at night, his hand lingering protectively on your back as you pass through crowded areas. But as the days pass, you can see it’s more than just casual caution. Heeseung becomes more guarded, eyes scanning the environment a little too often, his expression thoughtful, sometimes even distant.

You think about asking him what’s on his mind, but you know him too well. Heeseung’s the kind of person who will speak up when he’s ready. So, you don’t push. You give him space, knowing that whatever is weighing on him, he’ll reveal it in his own time.

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You were deep into your work at the office, the soft clattering of keyboards and the occasional murmur of conversation filling the room. As you focused on your screen, a hand appeared beside you holding a water bottle. You blinked and looked up to see Taehyun standing there, his usual calm expression on his face.

“Here,” he said simply, handing it to you.

You smiled, appreciating the small gesture. “Thanks, Taehyun.”

He nodded and walked off without another word, heading back to his desk. You watched him go for a moment before turning your attention to the water bottle. Just as you were about to open it, you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Hey!”

You looked up to see Yuna grinning at you, her energy as bright as ever. She leaned against your desk, eyes sparkling with her usual curiosity. “Got a minute? I’ve got something juicy to tell you.”

You laughed, setting the water bottle aside for the moment. “Of course, what’s up?”

Yuna leaned in closer, clearly excited to share whatever gossip she’d picked up.

After Yuna finished her lively story, you shared a few laughs and exchanged some light banter before she finally headed back to her own desk. Smiling to yourself, you turned back to your work, diving into the tasks at hand. Hours passed, the afternoon dragging on in its usual way, and soon enough, the office was beginning to wind down.

As you started wrapping up for the day, collecting your things and shutting down your computer, something tugged at the back of your mind. You glanced at your desk, suddenly remembering the water bottle Taehyun had given you earlier. You hadn’t even taken a sip.

But when you looked for it, your brow furrowed—it wasn’t there. The bottle wasn’t in the spot where you had placed it after Yuna interrupted you. You scanned your desk, thinking you might’ve absentmindedly moved it somewhere, but it was nowhere to be found.

That strange feeling from earlier crept back in. You distinctly remembered putting it down, so where had it gone? You stood still for a moment, eyes lingering on the empty space where the bottle had been, the office now much quieter as people filtered out for the day.

It left an uneasy feeling, but you shook it off, telling yourself it was nothing. Maybe someone had mistaken it for theirs or a coworker tidied it up. Still, as you packed your bag and headed for the door, that unsettling thought remained, lingering in the back of your mind.

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The woman walked quickly, her heels clicking against the pavement in a steady rhythm as she made her way home from work. The street was dimly lit, the occasional flicker of a streetlamp casting long shadows, but she paid no mind to the darkness. Her eyes were focused on her phone, fingers scrolling through messages, completely absorbed.

A van passed by on the road, its engine humming as it drove past. She barely looked up, not thinking twice about it. But that was her mistake.

She didn’t notice when the van made a sudden U-turn at the end of the road. Didn’t hear how its engine softened as it slowed down behind her, the tires barely making a sound. She didn’t see the figure that slipped out of the side door, silent and quick, their footsteps blending with her own until it was too late.

The first thing she felt was the sharp pain as a knife plunged into her back, cutting off her breath in an instant. She opened her mouth to scream, but a rough hand clamped over it, muffling the sound before it could escape. Her eyes widened in terror, her phone slipping from her grasp, clattering to the ground as the van rolled up beside her.

The door slid open, and with terrifying efficiency, she was dragged off the sidewalk and thrown into the back of the van. The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing down the empty street as the van sped off, its taillights disappearing into the night.

All that remained on the dark, quiet road was her phone, lying facedown on the pavement, and a small pool of blood where she had been moments before.

The woman lay crumpled in the back of the van, her body trembling in shock as waves of pain radiated from the wound in her back. She tried to speak, to cry out, but only weak, choked sounds escaped her lips. Her throat felt tight, her voice too strained to form words. Her vision blurred, the dim interior of the van spinning as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Through the haze, she saw them—the figures in the front of the van. The one driving wore a hood, their face hidden from view, but it was the other figure that made her heart pound in terror. Sitting across from her, they wore a white mask, plain and expressionless, but somehow more terrifying because of it. Their eyes were dark, void of any warmth as they stared down at her, watching her with a cold, eerie stillness.

The van rocked as it sped through the streets, the sound of the tires muffled by her own shallow breaths. She tried to move, to fight, but her limbs felt heavy, numb from the blood loss. Panic surged through her, but it was no match for the growing darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision.

“Time to sleep,” the masked figure said, their voice deep and twisted, each word dragging through the air like a final sentence.

The woman’s eyelids fluttered, her body losing the last of its strength. The world grew darker, her senses slipping away as the van continued its grim journey through the night. The last thing she saw before her consciousness faded was the haunting, lifeless gaze of the mask staring down at her, waiting for her to succumb to the darkness.

And then everything went black.

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As the days passed, the city grew more anxious. More women started to disappear, but the cases were erratic, with no clear pattern. There was no obvious timeline, no predictable interval between abductions. Some weeks passed in silence, giving a false sense of calm, only for another disappearance to send shockwaves through the city again.

The only common thread was chilling—each victim was a woman, alone. Whether she was walking home late at night or working past midnight in a dimly lit office building, it didn’t matter. The circumstances were always eerily similar: they vanished without a trace, leaving behind only blood and personal belongings, often a phone, as the sole evidence of their existence.

The media frenzy heightened with each report, but the police were left grasping at straws. Investigators found no obvious connection between the women—different ages, professions, and even locations around the city. Some worked in busy corporate buildings; others in small, isolated offices. Some vanished in residential areas; others in deserted industrial streets.

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The parking lot was nearly deserted, the fluorescent lights casting a dim, eerie glow over the rows of empty cars. It was close to 10 p.m., and the only sound in the air was the faint hum of the lights above and the soft click of the woman’s heels as she made her way across the pavement. Her phone was pressed to her ear as she chatted absently, trying to ignore the creeping sense of unease that always came with walking alone this late.

She spotted her car in the distance and quickened her pace, feeling a little more at ease as she got closer. But then she heard it—something subtle, like the shuffle of footsteps, just far enough away to make her pause.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice sharp in the quiet, her eyes scanning the shadows. Nothing moved. Silence.

She stood still for a moment, her heart thudding in her chest as she strained to listen, but no one answered. Probably just her imagination, she thought. With a nervous chuckle, she shook her head and returned to her conversation.

“Sorry, I thought I heard something,” she muttered into the phone, distracted, as she approached her car.

Then, her phone vibrated with an incoming call. Confused, she pulled it away from her ear to glance at the screen. The caller ID was unknown. With a sigh, she hung up her previous call and answered the new one.

"Hello?" she said cautiously, her voice tentative as she looked around, the dark parking lot suddenly feeling more menacing.

A low, twisted voice crackled through the line, sending a chill down her spine. "What are you doing all alone out there?" the voice asked.

She froze, her heart skipping a beat as her breath caught in her throat. "Who is this?" she demanded, but the voice didn’t answer her question.

"Do you like horror movies?" the voice continued, ignoring her. There was a sickening playfulness to the tone, like whoever was on the other end was enjoying this far too much.

"No," she replied sharply, her fingers tightening around her phone as she reached her car. "I don’t."

There was a soft laugh on the other end of the line. "What do you know about Ghostface?"

She blinked, confusion and fear mixing in her mind. "Ghostface? He’s… some infamous killer from a small town," she said slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. "He disappeared without a trace. No one knows what happened to him."

"Mmm, that’s right," the voice crooned, as if amused by her answer. There was a brief pause before the voice grew darker, more sinister.

Her pulse quickened, and every instinct screamed at her to end the call. Without a word, she hung up and shoved her phone into her pocket. The conversation left her skin crawling, and she fumbled for her keys, desperate to get into the safety of her car.

As she searched, she caught a glimpse of something in her rearview mirror. Her blood ran cold. Behind her, standing just a few feet away, was a figure dressed in all black, a white Ghostface mask gleaming under the parking lot lights.

The figure held a knife.

A scream tore from her throat as she spun around, instinctively swinging her purse at the masked attacker. The bag collided with him, causing him to stumble back for a brief moment. But that was all she needed.

She turned and bolted, her heels clicking rapidly against the pavement as she ran, her heart racing in pure terror. Behind her, she could hear the sound of his footsteps pounding against the ground, growing louder as he gave chase.

The parking lot seemed to stretch out forever, each car she passed a blur as she sprinted for her life, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She didn’t dare look back. All she could focus on was finding a way out, away from the masked figure who seemed determined to end her night in blood.

The woman's heart pounded in her chest, her legs burning as she sprinted across the parking lot. But the heels she wore slowed her down, each step feeling more precarious as she stumbled forward, desperate to escape. Behind her, the sound of heavy footsteps grew louder, closing the distance faster than she could manage.

Before she could make it far, a powerful hand grabbed her from behind, yanking her backward with brutal force. She screamed, but the sound barely had time to escape her lips before a sharp, searing pain tore through her chest. The knife plunged deep, and she cried out in agony, collapsing to the ground as she clutched the wound, blood spilling between her fingers.

The masked figure stood over her, head tilted in a chilling, almost curious manner as she gasped for breath, her vision blurring from the pain. For a moment, he simply watched her, as if savoring her suffering. Then, without a word, he raised the knife again and brought it down into her back. The second blow silenced her screams, her body going limp as her life faded away, leaving her lying motionless on the cold pavement.

Just then, another figure appeared from behind a row of parked cars. This one also wore a Ghostface mask, his dark clothes blending into the shadows. He approached casually, his posture relaxed as he observed the scene before him.

"You suck at talking to them," the first Ghostface said, glancing over his shoulder at the newcomer. There was irritation in his voice, as if critiquing a performance.

"Well, I'm not one for small talk, really," the second one replied, shrugging. He stopped beside the body, peering down at the lifeless woman. "Never been my thing."

The first Ghostface scoffed, wiping his knife clean on the woman's coat. "Maybe stick to the killing then."

"Yeah, yeah," the second one muttered. "Now help me with the body before someone shows up."

They both crouched down, working quickly and efficiently, lifting the woman’s lifeless form and dragging her to a nearby van parked in the shadows. With practiced ease, they hoisted her into the back, her bloodied body thudding onto the floor of the vehicle. The second Ghostface closed the door with a heavy slam, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of witnesses.

Before climbing into the van, he reached into his pocket and pulled out her phone. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it onto the pavement, where it landed with a dull thud, lying abandoned just like the others.

The first Ghostface slipped into the driver’s seat, starting the engine as the second one jumped in beside him. The van rumbled to life, its headlights cutting through the darkness as it pulled away from the scene, disappearing into the night, leaving behind nothing but the woman’s phone and a fresh pool of blood.

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The atmosphere at work had shifted drastically over the past few weeks. Tension hung thick in the air, particularly among the women. The recent string of disappearances—women being abducted either on their way home or in their workplaces—had cast a dark cloud over everyone’s minds. Every news report felt like a weight added to the growing fear that no one was truly safe.

Today, the office buzzed with anxiety. Groups of women were clustered together, their voices low but agitated as they discussed the recent events. You, Yuna and Karina sat at your usual spot in the break area, watching as more and more people abandoned their desks to join the conversations. The women spoke in hushed tones, but their words carried across the room—snippets of fear and frustration, all centered around the same dark subject.

Your supervisor, Mr. Park, stood at the front of the office, trying to regain control of the room. He raised his hands, attempting to get everyone’s attention, but it was clear that the unease had reached a tipping point. No one was listening.

“Everyone, please, calm down,” Mr. Park urged, his voice strained but failing to cut through the chatter. “We’ve implemented more security measures—no one should be here late alone, and we’ve hired additional guards to patrol the area. We’re doing everything we can—”

One of the women, clearly fed up, interrupted him. “It’s not enough! These disappearances aren’t happening somewhere far away—they’re here, in this city, and it feels like we could be next!”

A ripple of agreement spread across the room. Another woman spoke up, her voice shaking. “What if it happens to one of us? None of these women thought they’d be the next victim either, but look where they are now.”

You exchanged a glance with Yuna, who had been sitting quietly beside you, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a pensive expression. She leaned in, her voice low as she whispered, “This is getting out of hand. It’s like every woman here is on edge, and I can’t really blame them.”

You nodded in agreement, your own unease matching the growing paranoia in the room. “No one feels safe anymore. The stories get worse every time we hear about them.”

Just then, another woman’s voice rang out from across the room. “What about walking to the parking lot? What if something happens there? They say one of the women was attacked near her car!”

Mr. Park sighed, visibly struggling to maintain control of the situation. “I assure you, we’re doing everything in our power to make sure that won’t happen here. Please, stick together, don’t leave alone at night—”

But his words fell flat. The fear was palpable, and it was clear that no amount of reassurance could quell it.

Karina leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think it could happen to someone here? Like, someone we know?”

The thought sent a chill through you, but you kept your voice steady. “I don’t know. I really hope not, but it feels like no one is safe anymore.”

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, listening to the growing unrest around you. The women at the office were scared, and rightfully so. Every conversation seemed to circle back to the same grim topic—how quickly things could spiral out of control, and how anyone could be the next victim.

And as much as you wanted to stay calm, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the pit of your stomach, wondering if you or someone close to you might be next.

As the chatter continued, the tension in the room only seemed to escalate. The atmosphere was thick with anxiety, and every woman appeared to be looking for a way to feel safe again. Just then, one voice cut through the rising din.

"Wait a minute, isn't she the one who had that encounter with Ghostface?" A woman named Lisa turned to you, her eyes wide with both concern and curiosity. "I mean, she literally survived attacks from both the original Ghostface and the second one. If anyone is a target, it’s her!"

The room went silent, and all eyes turned to you. A knot formed in your stomach as the realization of their scrutiny sank in. The stories of your past encounters had become a source of both intrigue and fear among your colleagues, but you never wanted to be in the spotlight for that reason.

“Yeah, I mean, you must know how to protect yourself, right?” another woman chimed in, her tone almost pleading. “What tips do you have for us? We could really use some advice.”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, the pressure of their expectations weighing heavily on you. "I-I don’t think there’s much I can share,” you stammered, waving your hands in a dismissive gesture. “That was… different. You can’t really prepare for something like that.”

"But you survived," Lisa pressed, a hint of desperation in her voice. “You must have some kind of insight or strategy we could use. What should we do if we find ourselves in a similar situation?”

Their expressions were a mixture of fear and expectation, and it made you tense. "I know it’s scary right now," you continued, “but we have the police. That’s something, right? They’re there to help.”

"But what if they're not enough?" another woman interjected, anxiety spilling over in her voice. “What if something happens anyway? We need to be proactive!”

You could see the panic spreading, and your heart ached for them, but you didn’t know how to ease their fears. “Just remember to stay in groups and use the buddy system. If you see anything suspicious, report it immediately. We all have to look out for one another.”

The discussions turned to more practical solutions, but the sense of unease lingered in the air like a heavy fog. You couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite the reassurances, the threat was all too real.

As the conversations resumed around you, you felt a shiver run down your spine, wondering just how long it would be before the next headline flashed across the news, echoing the fears that were now a part of your everyday life.

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As the days turned into weeks, an unexpected shift swept through the city. The disappearances that had gripped the community with fear suddenly stopped altogether. News outlets began to report fewer stories about the incidents, and slowly but surely, the police patrols that had been so prevalent in the area dwindled.

With the pressure lifting and the atmosphere around the office becoming lighter, a collective sigh of relief spread among the women in your workplace. Conversations that had once been laced with fear shifted to lighter topics—plans for summer vacations, new projects, and even office gossip.

You couldn’t deny the sense of relief that washed over you as well, but in the back of your mind, a small part of you remained cautious, wondering if this was truly over.

With the return of some normalcy, you decided to take a day off, feeling the weight of the past few weeks finally beginning to lift. Taehyun had been instrumental in helping you settle into the city, always supportive and there when you needed it. He had helped you find your job and offered guidance through those chaotic initial weeks. You had come to trust him, and the prospect of spending some quality time together felt like just what you needed.

The sun shone brightly as you met Taehyun at a local café. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and chatter as people enjoyed their day out. You settled at a table outside, soaking in the warmth and the sounds of the bustling city.

“Hey, it’s good to see you!” Taehyun smiled as he approached, his easygoing demeanor instantly putting you at ease. He wore a casual outfit that suited him well, and his presence was always a comfort.

“Thanks for meeting up with me,” you said, returning his smile as he took a seat across from you. “I felt like I needed a break from everything, you know?”

“I get that,” he replied, nodding in understanding. “It’s been a rough few weeks for everyone. I’m glad to see things calming down, even if it feels a bit too quiet.”

You agreed, grateful for the shift in the atmosphere but still wary. “Yeah, I hope it stays this way.”

As you chatted over coffee, sharing stories about your work and catching up on life, you felt a sense of normalcy returning. Taehyun made you laugh, effortlessly drawing you out of your worries and fears, reminding you of the good moments in life.

“Honestly, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, leaning in slightly, “how are you doing with everything? I know the past few weeks have been tough on you.”

You hesitated, considering his question carefully. “I mean, I’m okay, I think. The disappearances… they shook me up, but now that they’ve stopped, it feels like we can finally breathe again. I just hope that it’s really over.”

Taehyun nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s understandable to feel that way. But you’ve been really strong through all of it. I admire how you handled everything.”

His compliment warmed you, and you felt a little of the tension inside you ease. “Thanks, Taehyun. I couldn’t have gotten through it without support from people like you��and Heeseung.”

“Speaking of Heeseung,” Taehyun said, changing the topic, “how are things going with him?”

A smile spread across your face at the mention of Heeseung. “He’s wonderful. We’ve been trying to make time for each other amidst everything.”

“That’s good to hear,” Taehyun replied, a genuine smile on his face. “You deserve to have that support. You both do.”

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You were focused on your work when Taehyun appeared at your desk, looking flustered. "Hey, have you seen Sullyeon?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.

You shook your head. "No, I haven’t."

"Aw man," he sighed, holding up a small stack of papers. "I have to go out for lunch, and she was supposed to print these for me…"

Without thinking, you spoke up. "I can do that if you want."

The moment the words left your mouth, you felt a twinge of regret. You had been looking forward to your lunch with Heeseung, and now you risked being late. But seeing the defeated look on Taehyun's face had pushed you to offer help before you could fully process it.

His face brightened instantly. "You would be saving my ass," he said with a grateful grin, handing you the papers. "I owe you!" he called over his shoulder as he hurried off.

You sighed as you gathered the papers and made your way to the printer. You weren’t thrilled about cutting into your time, but it was too late to back out now.

You sighed again as the printer began spitting out the documents, the faint hum filling the otherwise quiet hallway. While you waited, your thoughts drifted to Heeseung and the lunch date you were already running late for. A part of you regretted offering to help Taehyun, but there was no turning back now.

A sudden, faint noise from behind made you pause. You turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on the door to the emergency staircase at the far end of the hallway. The sound was so soft, it could have easily been dismissed—perhaps just the building settling or a draft—but something about it tugged at your attention.

You tilted your head, trying to listen more carefully. For a moment, everything was still. Shrugging it off, you turned back to the printer, watching as the papers slowly emerged. But then, there was another noise, slightly louder this time, like something shifting behind the door.

Your brow furrowed as you glanced back again. "Hello?" you called, your voice breaking the silence.

No response.

The hallway was unusually quiet. Most of your coworkers had already gone for lunch, and the floor felt almost abandoned. Hesitation bubbled up inside you, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you moved away from the printer and approached the door to the emergency staircase.

The handle felt cold as you pushed it open, revealing the dark, echoing space of the stairwell. "Hello?" you called again, your voice bouncing off the concrete walls and disappearing into the distance.

Still no answer.

You were about to close the door and dismiss it as your imagination playing tricks when something fell with a soft thud near your feet. The sudden sound made you jump, your heart skipping a beat. You stared down, eyes widening as you saw a single pink heel lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

Your breath caught in your throat. It took you a second to recognize the shoe—it was Sullyeon’s favorite pair. She wore them nearly every day. Your mind raced as you looked up the stairwell, then back at the hallway behind you. Sparse with people, eerily quiet.

Unease began to creep in, but concern for Sullyeon overtook it. You took a tentative step forward, picking up the heel. It felt cold in your hand.

"Sullyeon?" you called, voice more urgent this time as you started climbing the stairs, your heart beating a little faster now. The door to the hallway clicked shut behind you, sealing you inside the stairwell with the echo of your footsteps.

Each step upward seemed to amplify the unsettling stillness, and the further you climbed, the more your worry deepened. "Sullyeon?" you called again, but only the hollow sound of your own voice answered back.

Something was wrong. You could feel it tightening in your chest, a sense of foreboding that lingered as you continued up the stairwell, clutching Sullyeon’s heel in your hand.

You reached the top of the stairs, pushing open the door to the floor still under construction. The dim lighting barely illuminated the area, where plastic barrier sheets hung loosely from the ceiling, separating piles of materials and scattered tools. Dust filled the air, and the eerie silence only deepened your unease. You pulled back one of the sheets, squinting to peer through the space.

"Sullyeon? Are you here?" Your voice echoed faintly as you moved between the barriers, stepping carefully around the debris.

No answer.

The unsettling quiet pressed in on you as you navigated through the room, your breath growing shallow with every step. Something was wrong. Deep down, you knew it.

"Sullyeon?" you called again, a little louder this time, your voice cracking slightly. You pulled back another sheet of plastic and froze in place.

Your heart dropped.

There, on the cold floor, lay Sullyeon, her body twisted in a pool of blood. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths. Her eyes, wide with fear and pain, locked onto yours. She gasped, trying to speak, but the words came out as painful whimpers.

"Sullyeon!" you screamed, rushing to her side. You knelt beside her, hands trembling as you applied pressure to the wound in her stomach. Blood seeped through your fingers, warm and slick. "Stay with me! Stay with me, Sullyeon!" you cried, panic rising in your chest as you desperately tried to keep her conscious.

But Sullyeon’s hands feebly pushed against you, weakly trying to move your hands away. "What are you doing?!" you asked in disbelief, your eyes wide with confusion as you tried to help her. Then you noticed she was pointing, trembling, at something behind you. Her eyes filled with pure terror.

"He… he…" she choked out, barely able to speak.

You barely had time to turn before a sharp punch landed on your face, sending you reeling backward. Pain exploded in your jaw as you clutched your face, stumbling to regain your balance. Your vision blurred for a moment, but when it cleared, you found yourself staring into the mask—that mask.

Ghostface.

Your heart pounded, terror gripping you as you took in the sight of the iconic white mask. But this wasn’t Heeseung. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this wasn’t him. You’d watched him bury the mask and knife, leaving that life behind for good.

This was someone else. Someone who had taken up the mantle of Ghostface, using it to spread terror once again. And you were sure this was the person responsible for all the disappearances.

"You…" you spat, your voice trembling with fury and fear. The figure in the mask tilted their head, the sharp glint of a knife catching the dim light as they stepped over Sullyeon, moving toward you with slow, deliberate menace.

Before the masked figure could get any closer, Sullyeon, in a final act of bravery, kicked out weakly, tripping the attacker. They stumbled forward, crashing to the floor with a grunt.

"Run!" Sullyeon screamed, her voice filled with agony.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You scrambled to your feet, your heart racing as you bolted toward the exit, barely dodging the swipe of the knife aimed at your legs. The sound of Ghostface rising behind you sent a chill down your spine, but you kept running, your only focus on escaping the nightmare.

You threw yourself against the door at the top of the stairs, your entire body slamming into it with force. The door flew open, but just as you began to make your descent down the stairwell, a heavy weight crashed into you from behind. You screamed as you tumbled forward, the force of Ghostface’s body slamming into yours sending you both rolling down the stairs in a chaotic mess of limbs and pain.

Your body collided painfully with each step, the hard edges bruising your arms and legs as you tried to orient yourself. When you reached the bottom, dizzy and aching, you scrambled, trying to wiggle away. Ghostface, equally disoriented from the fall, lunged for you, his gloved hand reaching out. You screamed, kicking out with all the strength you had left, your foot connecting squarely with his face.

He let out a shout, clutching his mask as he reeled back, giving you just enough time to scramble to your feet. You ran, your heart pounding wildly as adrenaline took over.

You knew going to your desk and calling the police would take too much time. You needed to get out of the building, to get someone’s attention.

As you sprinted down the stairs, panic pulsed through your veins, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Behind you, Ghostface had gotten up from where you’d both tumbled down the steps. From the corner of your eye, you saw him glance over the edge, his gaze locking onto your retreating figure. His fist slammed into the metal railing in frustration, a loud clang echoing through the stairwell. The anger radiated off him as he leaned down, snatching up the knife he had dropped during the fall.

Without missing a beat, he started running after you, the sound of his boots pounding against the stairs growing louder with every step.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you flew down the remaining stairs, pushing yourself to run faster than you ever had in your life. Bursting through the door to the lobby, you ran toward the receptionist’s desk, your voice raw with terror. "Please, help! The killer—he’s after me! He’s in the building!"

The receptionist looked up, her face pale with fear as she took in your blood-streaked hands and panicked expression. She fumbled for the phone, her fingers shaking, but you knew every second counted.

You collapsed into a chair in the lobby, still shaking when the police arrived. Heeseung appeared beside you soon after, his eyes wide with horror when he saw you sitting there, bloodied and terrified. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his protective grip never faltering. You buried your face into his chest, your body trembling as you tried to steady your breath.

The police searched the building, but when they returned, the news wasn’t good.

"Look, miss," one of the officers began, his expression grim as he knelt beside you. "We searched everything, but the only thing we found was some blood and Miss Sullyeon’s phone." He held up a clear evidence bag, the bloodied phone lying inside. "The killer isn’t in the building anymore."

You sighed heavily, feeling a weight settle in your chest. Heeseung tensed beside you, his jaw clenched in frustration. "That clearly means the killer knows the area," he muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the ground.

"Clearly," the officer agreed, sounding just as defeated. "Look, if it’s alright with you, we’d like you to come back to the station to fill out your statement. Is that okay?"

You nodded, exhausted. Heeseung helped you to your feet, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist as the two of you followed the officers to their car.

Sitting in the back of the police car, Heeseung looked deeply unsettled. His hand found yours, squeezing gently as if to reassure you, though you could tell his mind was elsewhere. "I’m sorry, angel. I should have been there," he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt.

"It’s not your fault, Heeseung," you whispered, leaning into him. "Don’t beat yourself up over something you couldn’t have known would happen today."

He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I know… but this is all my fault." His voice cracked slightly, and his thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, his other hand softly tracing the bruise forming on your cheek.

You understood what he meant. It wasn’t about today. He was blaming himself for everything—the murders, the start of everything. Ghostface had started with him, and now it was continuing, spreading like a dark shadow over both of your lives.

You had fallen in love with a felon, a criminal, a murderer. He had buried the mask, but the legacy had been reborn, and now you were yet again in the midst of it.

The trilogy had begun.

You arrived at the police station, the air heavy with tension. Heeseung was more on edge than usual, his jaw tight, eyes scanning the room warily. You knew he wasn’t fond of police stations—it was no secret why. His past left a bitter taste every time you were around law enforcement, and you could feel the weight of his discomfort radiating beside you.

Inside, the officers seemed to pick up on his energy too. As you both sat down at a desk, you noticed how one officer, who was meant to take your statement, hesitated, his gaze flicking nervously toward Heeseung. His presence, usually calm and collected around you, now felt almost threatening to others, though unintentionally. You reached out and placed a hand on his, squeezing it softly, a silent reminder that you were in this together.

"Is it okay if Heeseung stays while I give my statement?" you asked, though it came out more like a gentle command.

The officer, clearly a little intimidated by Heeseung's stoic demeanor, nodded quickly, fumbling with his notepad. "Y-yeah, of course. No problem."

Heeseung settled back in the chair next to you, though you could feel the tension in his muscles. His fingers gently drummed on the armrest, his gaze flickering toward every movement around the station. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a silent gesture of reassurance—but you could tell he was simmering under the surface.

The officer glanced at Heeseung briefly, then quickly looked away. You could tell he was intimidated, not just by Heeseung's physical presence but by the silent weight he carried with him.

The officer cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling out a notepad. “Alright, ma’am, let’s go over everything. Please tell us what happened with the… attacker.” He hesitated at the word “Ghostface,” as if saying it out loud might somehow conjure the horror you’d just escaped from.

You nodded, leaning forward slightly, your hand still intertwined with Heeseung’s for support. “It all happened so fast,” you began, voice still shaky. “I was printing papers when I heard a noise coming from the emergency stairwell. I went to check it out, and I found Sullyeon. She was hurt—stabbed.”

The officer scribbled down your words but kept glancing nervously at Heeseung, who remained silent, his eyes sharp and observant. You continued, describing every detail you could remember about the attack, your voice faltering slightly as you relived the terror. “Then... he came after me. He was wearing a Ghostface mask, like the one from the murders back in my hometown. I... I don’t know who he was, but he attacked me, and I barely got away.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched as you spoke, his hand tightening around yours as though trying to shield you from the memory. His tension was palpable, and the officer, clearly uneasy, fumbled a bit with his notes. “And, uh, the suspect... Did you notice anything specific about him? His height, build, any details?”

You tried to focus, but Heeseung's tension made it hard to stay calm. “He was under six feet tall, a bit shorter. He moved fast, and... he didn’t say anything, just chased me. I didn’t get a good look at anything other than the mask and the knife.”

The officer nodded, scribbling down the details while casting a wary glance at Heeseung. “Alright, we’ll take this information and do our best to track him down. We’ll also be investigating Sullyeon’s disappearance.”

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The drive home was heavy with silence. Heeseung’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he focused on the road. He hadn't said a word since leaving the station, and the tension between you grew with every passing minute. You knew this silence well—it wasn’t anger, but something deeper. Heeseung was in his head, wrestling with thoughts he never liked to voice.

When you finally reached home, the familiar creak of the front door seemed to echo in the quiet night. Heeseung held the door open for you, his eyes dark with something unreadable. As you stepped inside, he finally spoke, his voice soft yet strained. “You should go wash up.”

You nodded, sensing that he wasn’t quite ready to talk yet. After everything, you needed the hot water to clear your mind, to wash away the remnants of the day—the blood, the fear, the lingering image of Ghostface in your head. You could feel Heeseung’s eyes on you as you walked to the bathroom, his silent presence heavy with worry.

Once you had showered and changed into clean clothes, you found him sitting on the couch in the living room, staring out the window. The dim light cast long shadows across his face, making him look even more lost in thought. You approached cautiously, sitting down beside him, your presence breaking through his reverie.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of everything that had happened, everything that lingered in your past, seemed to hang in the air. Finally, Heeseung broke the silence, his voice quiet but filled with something raw.

“I’ve always feared this would happen,” he began, his eyes still fixed on the window, as if looking anywhere but at you. “That someone… someone would pick up where I left off. I always knew it was possible.”

You stayed silent, listening, feeling the tension radiating off him.

“For years, I tried to put it behind me, tried to forget what I did as Ghostface. I thought burying it, moving away, starting over—it would all be enough. But these disappearances… I’ve been looking into them on my own, trying to piece it together. They’re not random. They’re murders. And now, they’ve come for you.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he finally turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and fear. “I’ve been researching, trying to find patterns, but… it’s always the same. Young women, alone, just like you were today. And the one thing I’ve always feared… it’s happening. I’m losing you, and I don’t know what to do.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, feeling the tension in his grip. Heeseung’s eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, the words barely audible. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane. Without you… I don’t know who I’d be.”

The intensity of his words hit you hard. You knew Heeseung struggled with his past, but hearing him voice it like this, raw and unfiltered, shook you. He had always been your rock, the one who seemed steady despite everything. But now, sitting here, you realized how deeply afraid he was—afraid of the person he used to be, and afraid of losing the one thing that gave him stability: you.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “We’ll get through this together. We’ve faced worse, remember?”

Heeseung closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time you’re out there, every time you’re alone… It kills me. And today… I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“It’s not your fault, Heeseung,” you reassured him. “You couldn’t have known. But I’m still here, and we’re going to figure this out.”

His grip tightened around your hand, and for the first time that night, he let out a deep sigh, leaning his head against yours. “I’m so scared, angel,” he whispered. “I’m scared of what’s coming. But I’m more scared of losing you.”

Heeseung's breath warmed your skin as he leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that fragile moment, suspended in the heaviness of your fears and unspoken worries.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised softly, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his. The kiss was tentative at first, a mixture of fear and longing. It felt as if you were both trying to hold onto something precious, something that could slip away at any moment. But as you kissed him back, the weight of the world lifted, if only for a moment.

His hands cradled your face, fingers tangling in your hair, grounding you both. You melted into the kiss, your heart racing as the intensity of your connection deepened. It was more than just a kiss; it was a vow, a silent promise to protect each other against the shadows of your past.

As you pulled back slightly, your foreheads still touching, you could see the storm of emotions swirling in Heeseung’s eyes—fear, love, and determination. “I need you to promise me something,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you replied, your heart aching for him, for the vulnerability he laid bare.

“If anything happens… if I can’t protect you…” he paused, his gaze intense. “You need to fight. You need to survive. I don’t care what it takes. Just keep running. Promise me that.”

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his request. “I promise, Heeseung. I’ll fight. I won’t let him take me.”

A flicker of relief passed through his eyes, and he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if sealing the promise between you. The fear still lingered, a shadow that clung to your hearts, but in that moment, you felt invincible together. Whatever Ghostface represented—whatever legacy of terror threatened to reclaim you—you would confront it head-on, side by side.

Heeseung pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you as if he could shield you from everything that lurked in the darkness outside. You could feel the tremors of anxiety still present in his body.

You began to rub his back gently, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his spine. With each stroke, you whispered sweet reassurances, reminding him that you were there and that everything would be okay.

Slowly, you felt his body begin to relax beneath your touch. His breath steadied, the tension in his shoulders easing as he melted against you, burying his head into the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a wave of comfort through you, and you could feel the weight of the world lift just a little. Heeseung sighed softly, and in that moment, you knew you had reached him.

Before you both realized it, the exhaustion and stress from the day began to take their toll. The adrenaline that had coursed through your veins was fading, leaving a heavy fog of fatigue in its wake. Heeseung shifted slightly, pulling you onto his lap, and instinctively, you nestled closer, your head resting against his shoulder. He began placing soft, lingering kisses on your neck and shoulder, each touch igniting a sense of safety that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. With every kiss, you felt your eyelids grow heavier, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you into a tranquil state.

In Heeseung’s arms, you felt safe. The chaos of the day faded into the background as you succumbed to the comforting warmth that enveloped you. Your breaths became slower and steadier, and before you knew it, you drifted off into a deep sleep, completely surrendering to the solace of the moment.

“Always so sweet… so precious…” Heeseung murmured, knowing you were asleep. He could always tell by your body language—the way you relaxed against him, how your breathing changed when you finally surrendered to sleep. It reminded him of the time when you had first collapsed in his arms, utterly exhausted and vulnerable. Back then, he had revealed his dark secret, the truth that he was Ghostface, and yet you had still chosen him.

As you slept, Heeseung gently pulled back, carefully rearranging you so that you lay fully against his chest. He laid back on the couch, cradling you against him as he reveled in the moment. He played with your hair, his fingers weaving through the strands, each stroke a reminder—one that you were there, how he would always keep you close.

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Returning to work after a few days of leave felt like stepping into a spotlight you didn’t want to be under. After the attack, you had been on the frontlines of the news, plastered across every screen and newspaper. Now, as you walked into the office, everyone’s eyes followed you. People whispered and pointed, their murmurs barely concealed. It took you back to when you had first survived the original Ghostface years ago—the trauma, the constant attention, the feeling of being both a survivor and a spectacle. Back then, you’d learned that Heeseung had been Ghostface.

After waking up in the hospital, Taehyung had disappeared, and Heeseung never wanted to tell you what really happened after you fainted that night.

That dark chapter of your life had been followed by relentless media attention, to the point that you and Heeseung had spent years living in the secluded hut he had taken you to, just to escape. Slowly, the public interest in your story had faded into just another horrific event in the world’s ever-growing archive. When you returned to public life, there were still whispers, occasional stares from people who recognized your face. But it was manageable. You’d gotten used to it.

Now, though, it felt like history was repeating itself. Seeing your colleagues point, hearing the quiet exchanges behind your back, it all left you feeling a mix of guilt and hopelessness. Why was it always you? Why did the specter of Ghostface still loom over your life, even when you thought you had moved on?

You sat down at your desk and sighed deeply, putting your head down on the cool surface in an attempt to shut out the world. The weight of everything pressed down on you.

“Are you okay?” Taehyun’s voice broke through the fog of your thoughts, and you groaned softly, not ready for conversation.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, lifting your head slightly to look at him. "I mean, I'll survive… I guess."

Taehyun’s expression was filled with guilt, his usual easygoing nature replaced by something far more solemn. “Yeah, listen… I just wanted to say sorry. If I had just printed those papers myself, this might not have happened.”

The remorse in his voice was palpable, but you shook your head. “It’s totally okay, Taehyun. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault,” you insisted, trying to sound more certain than you felt.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, though you could tell he wasn’t fully convinced. "Still… I should’ve been more aware."

You smiled weakly, trying to reassure him despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Really, it’s not on you.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of Taehyun's guilt as he sat beside you, shoulders hunched, concern etched on his face. "Really, Taehyun, it’s not your fault," you said gently, though a part of you wished none of this had ever happened. "There’s no way you could have known."

He hesitated, still uneasy. "But I feel like if I hadn’t asked you to print those papers, none of this—"

You interrupted, your voice softer now. "Taehyun, you can’t blame yourself. These things… they just happen. It’s like fate or something, always pulling me back into this nightmare." You gave him a small, tired smile, but your words carried a weight you couldn’t fully mask.

Taehyun shifted closer, concern deepening. "But are you really okay? I mean… facing all this again…"

You exhaled shakily, your defenses slipping as the exhaustion of everything you’d been through clawed at you. "Honestly? I’m tired, Taehyun. I thought it was over. Years ago, I saw that white mask for the last time, or at least I thought I did. And now… it’s happening all over again. I don’t know why it always has to be me."

His eyes softened with understanding, and without saying anything, he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. It wasn’t a solution, but in that moment, his presence was enough. "You’re strong," he said quietly, "I know you are. But you don’t have to go through this alone."

The simple statement was enough to make your chest tighten with gratitude. "Thank you, Taehyun," you murmured, leaning into the support he offered, even if just for a brief moment.

After Taehyun left, you sat at your desk, trying to focus, but it was hard to shake the weight of everything that had happened. The office chatter around you felt distant until you heard familiar voices.

Yuna and Karina walked up, both wearing expressions of concern. Yuna was the first to speak. "Hey, how are you holding up?"

You forced a small smile, not wanting to get into it again. "I just… I want to forget for a while, you know?"

They exchanged a look, understanding immediately. Karina offered softly, "We get it. How about you come over to my place after work? Just relax, maybe watch something that isn’t terrifying for once."

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds good. I could use the distraction."

As they turned to leave, your boss suddenly appeared. Yuna and Karina gave you a quick nod before walking off. Your boss approached carefully, his expression serious yet empathetic.

"I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about everything that happened," he started, his voice low. "If you need more time off, don’t hesitate. You’ve been through a lot."

You appreciated the gesture, but you shook your head. "Thanks, but I can’t. I need the money."

He nodded in understanding, clearly wishing he could offer more, but respecting your decision. "If you change your mind, just let me know."

When work finally ended, you gathered your things, feeling the exhaustion of the day pressing down on you. As you walked through the office, your steps slowed when you passed by Sullyeon’s desk. It had been turned into a small memorial, with flowers, messages, and her picture resting in the center.

You stood there, staring at her smiling face. She didn’t deserve this. The guilt twisted inside of you, your mind filled with haunting questions. If only you could have helped her sooner… would she still be here now?

A quiet sigh escaped your lips, your heart heavy as you tore your eyes away and headed out of the building.

After leaving the building, you were greeted by Yuna and Karina waiting by the car. They both smiled warmly, offering you a much-needed sense of normalcy. The drive to Karina’s house was filled with light chatter, helping to ease some of the tension that had been building inside you all day.

On the way, you shot a quick text to Heeseung, letting him know where you were. He replied almost immediately: Keep your location on.

You sighed softly but responded with a simple Okay, understanding his concern. Heeseung never liked being left in the dark, especially now.

Once you arrived at Karina’s house, the three of you settled in the cozy living room. You sat on the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows, with a bottle of wine passed between you. Karina picked a random rom-com movie for background noise, but none of you were really paying attention. The conversation flowed easily, and for a little while, it almost felt like nothing was wrong. The laughter, the jokes, the comfort of being with friends—it was soothing, like a balm for your frayed nerves.

But even in that moment, you couldn’t fully shake the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. It was subtle, a creeping sensation of being watched. Your eyes kept darting to the windows, trying to catch something—anything—out of the ordinary. But, every time you looked, there was nothing. Just darkness, an empty street with no signs of life. Yet, your instincts, honed by past encounters, told you something was off. You stood up, interrupting the conversation briefly as you moved toward the windows.

Karina raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking something," you replied quietly, already pulling the curtains closed. You walked from window to window, making sure they were all locked, double-checking the doors, and even ensuring the alarm system was armed. Karina and Yuna didn’t say anything. They knew about your heightened sense of security after everything you had been through. They understood.

Once you finished, you paused in the kitchen, your hand resting on the counter as you peered out one last time through the small window facing the street. Everything looked normal—no movement, no shadows, no sign of anyone lurking. Yet, that feeling in your gut wouldn’t leave.

You sighed, drawing the curtains shut before heading back to the living room. When you returned, Karina gave you a reassuring smile as you sat back down between them.

"Everything okay?" Yuna asked, concern lacing her voice.

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to push away the lingering tension. "Everything’s fine."

After a long evening, you and Yuna finally decided to head home. You both hugged Karina goodbye, thanking her for the night. As Karina stepped back into her doorway, she paused for a moment and looked down the street.

“I didn’t know the Jeons got a van,” she muttered under her breath before closing the door.

You caught the comment, something about it tugging at you. As you looked in the direction she had been staring, you noticed a black van parked a block away. It seemed like an ordinary van, nothing special about it at first glance. But a familiar knot of unease formed in your stomach. Your instincts, sharpened by past experiences, flared up.

"Come on!" Yuna’s voice broke through your thoughts, her hand gently tugging your arm. You let out a breath, nodding as you followed her onto the street. You pushed the feeling away for now. Maybe it was nothing.

Yuna spotted her boyfriend’s car waiting nearby and waved goodbye before getting in. You did the same, waving to her as she left, and then turned to find Heeseung’s car parked a little farther down. The sight of him waiting for you eased the tension in your chest.

You slipped into the passenger seat, the familiar warmth of Heeseung making you feel safe again. "Had fun, angel?" he asked with a soft smile, his eyes briefly meeting yours as he started the engine.

“Yeah,” you replied, managing a smile back at him. The black van lingered in your mind for a moment longer, but as Heeseung drove and the two of you started talking, the knot of tension slowly began to fade. You felt lighter, recounting your evening to him, and his steady presence grounded you as he responded with gentle laughter and comments.

When you both arrived home, Heeseung parked the car, and the two of you made your way to the front door, hand in hand. The cool night air seemed to melt away as soon as you stepped inside the warmth of your home. The moment the door closed behind you, Heeseung wasted no time. He turned toward you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed soft kisses along your forehead, your cheeks, and down your neck.

“Hee—stop,” you giggled, trying to gently push him away, though your heart fluttered at the affectionate attention.

He didn’t budge, his lips trailing down your shoulder now as he held you tightly in his arms. “You left me alone all afternoon… without my beautiful, perfect girlfriend,” he murmured against your skin.

You laughed, squirming a little in his grip but not really wanting to get away. “I wasn’t even gone that long.”

Heeseung grinned, pulling back just enough to look at you with that playful glint in his eyes. “Too long for me,” he teased, his hands tracing along your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. “I’ve been going crazy without you.”

You tried to protest, but your laughter only seemed to egg him on as he leaned in closer, pressing more kisses wherever he could reach. His warm breath tickled your skin, making you giggle uncontrollably, and it wasn’t long before you gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, still laughing, but the smile on your face said otherwise.

“And you love it,” he smirked, finally pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

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You and Heeseung were walking hand in hand through the mall, enjoying the leisurely day together. Earlier that morning, when you mentioned wanting to go shopping, Heeseung had simply grabbed his keys, ready to take you wherever you wanted. Now, here he was, holding your shopping bags with his usual laid-back demeanor, though his eyes occasionally darted around the mall, taking in the surroundings.

“I need to go to the bathroom, wait here, I’ll be right back,” you told him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading toward the restroom. Heeseung smiled softly at your kiss, his gaze following you for a moment before he sat down on a nearby bench to wait.

After finishing in the restroom, you walked out, checking your phone as you stepped into the main hall—only to accidentally bump into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry!” you quickly apologized, looking up at the man you’d crashed into.

The guy was surprisingly handsome, and what caught you off guard was just how similar he looked to Heeseung. “It’s quite alright. I should have been paying attention,” he said with an easy smile.

You smiled back politely. “No harm done.”

As you turned to walk away, a look of recognition dawned on his face. “Wait, aren’t you that chick who survived those killers a few years back? Y/N, right?” he asked, his tone a little too casual for the heavy topic he brought up.

You stiffened slightly but nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Man, that’s wild! I remember seeing it all over the news, and then when your face popped up again recently, I was shocked!” he continued, oblivious to your discomfort. “That’s crazy, I can’t even imagine—”

“Yeah, it was… a lot,” you mumbled, trying to make your exit, but he kept walking with you, throwing out more questions.

That’s when you spotted Heeseung, who had already noticed you from across the hall. His face lit up at first, but the moment he saw the guy beside you, his expression turned serious, his body language shifting into something far more protective.

Heeseung stood up from the bench, striding toward you with purpose, his eyes never leaving the stranger by your side. When he reached you, he immediately wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The gesture was both possessive and protective.

“Is this your boyfriend?” the guy asked, glancing between you and Heeseung.

You could feel how tense Heeseung was against you, the low growls in his throat barely audible, but enough to send a message. “Yeah, listen, it was nice meeting you,” you started, trying to defuse the situation, but before you could finish, Heeseung pulled you with him, effectively ending the conversation.

“And that means we’re done here,” you said firmly over your shoulder, matching Heeseung’s pace as he led you away from the guy.

“Okay, bye!” the man called after you, but the tone in his voice felt forced, as if the friendly façade was slipping.

As you and Heeseung walked away, you glanced back for a second, only to see the guy standing there, staring after you both. His smile had disappeared, replaced by something unreadable before he turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about him.

Very off.

As you continued walking through the mall with Heeseung, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that crept over you. Something felt off. The buzz of the crowd around you seemed distant, your mind hyper-focused on the unsettling energy lingering in the air. You glanced at Heeseung, hoping it was just your imagination, but his sharp eyes were scanning the surroundings more frequently than before.

“Do you feel that?” you asked quietly, your voice low so only Heeseung could hear. You didn’t want to draw attention, but the tension in your chest was becoming unbearable.

Heeseung didn’t need to ask what you meant. He nodded, his jaw tightening as his hand around yours gripped a little firmer. “Yeah, I feel it,” he muttered, his eyes flicking toward the corners of the mall, searching for something—or someone—out of place. His body language shifted, becoming more alert, his protective instincts fully kicked in.

Without needing to say another word, the two of you picked up the pace, your steps quickening as you both began to move in sync, making your way toward the exit in a quiet rush. Every few seconds, you found yourself glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting to see something lurking just out of sight.

Heeseung was on edge too, his gaze constantly darting to the entrances and exits around you, always aware. His body was tense, as though he was ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice. That same eerie sensation, the one that had haunted you for years, had returned—a feeling that something or someone was watching you.

When you finally reached the exit, relief washed over you momentarily as you stepped into the open air of the parking lot. The world outside felt quieter, but the anxiety hadn’t left you. The two of you made a beeline for the car, and once you were safely inside, Heeseung wasted no time starting the engine.

As you and Heeseung sped away from the mall, miles of road stretched between you and the unsettling encounter. The tension slowly began to lift inside the car, but a lingering unease remained. Heeseung's hand never left yours, his grip reassuring as the city passed by in a blur.

Back at the mall, a man walked out of the main entrance, his face set in a calm, emotionless mask. His steps were steady, deliberate. He paused just outside the doors, scanning the parking lot before slipping his hands into his pockets and walking forward.

A few steps later, another figure appeared, almost out of nowhere, falling into step beside him. The second man moved with a quiet confidence, his face equally unreadable. Without a word, the two of them began walking in sync, their movements perfectly matched.

They walked as if they had done this many times before, their presence barely noticeable to the crowd bustling around them. The pair exchanged no words, no glances—just an eerie, silent understanding that hung between them.

Something was coming, something dark, and it was creeping closer with every step they took.

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The next morning, you arrived at work with a heavy heart, the events of the past few days weighing on you like a lead blanket. The first thing you did was place the flowers you had bought that morning by Sullyeon’s desk. A burst of color against the stark reality of the empty space, they were a tribute to her memory, a reminder of the life she once had. You sighed deeply, allowing yourself a moment to remember her before turning away to your own desk.

The morning passed smoothly enough, a welcome distraction from the turmoil in your mind. Heeseung even stopped by with lunch, his smile brightening your day. He leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, a gesture that momentarily made everything feel normal again. But just as he left, your phone rang, breaking the calm.

An unknown caller.

You froze, your stomach twisting in knots. The office was relatively quiet, a few coworkers dozing at their desks, lost in dreams. A chill ran down your spine as you accepted the call.

“Hello?” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Miss me?” came a deep, familiar voice, sending a jolt of recognition through you. The last time you heard it, it had haunted your nightmares.

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to block it out. “Not at all,” you replied, your heart racing.

“Awww, that’s not very nice. After all, I have missed you!” The tone was teasing, mocking.

“Cut the bullshit. I know this isn’t you. You are dead,” you said, your anger rising.

“Correct. It isn’t me. Seems like you knew more than you let on to the press. Naughty,” he said, the malice dripping from his words.

“Who are you? What do you want?” you demanded, your grip tightening around your phone.

“What I want? Well, it varies,” he replied, his voice smooth and sinister.

“The fuck do you mean?”

“You’ll eventually see… for now, I just wanted to talk.”

You were about to stand up when he added, “If you alert anyone, I will kill Sullyeon.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What…?”

Just then, a notification pinged on your phone. You glanced down, your heart dropping as you saw a picture: Sullyeon, tied to a chair, bruised and bloodied, fear etched across her face.

You gasped, bringing the phone back to your ear. “Sullyeon’s alive?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Yes! Why don’t you say hello?” he said, and you heard the rustling on the other end before Sullyeon’s familiar voice broke through, desperate and terrified. “Help! Please help me! I don’t want to die!”

Panic surged through you. “Get it?” he asked, a sickening satisfaction in his tone. You nodded, remembering he couldn’t see you. “Yes,” you managed to say, your heart racing.

“Good. Now be good and leave the building. Go to the parking lot,” he instructed.

“Why?” you asked, dread pooling in your stomach.

“Because we want to say hello.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in horror. You were frozen, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over you. Fear, guilt, and a desperate need to save Sullyeon flooded your thoughts. You had to make a choice—stay safe and keep quiet, or risk everything for her.

Then the words echoed in your mind: we.

He had said we.

There was more than one.

Panic gripped you as the reality set in. This was not just a game of cat and mouse; this was a calculated attack with multiple players involved. You carefully stood up, your heart pounding as you grabbed your bag, and started making your way toward the parking lot.

Just as you stepped outside, you spotted Yuna and Karina getting out of Karina’s car. Relief washed over you momentarily, but it was quickly replaced by dread when you realized the danger they were in.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Yuna called, her face lighting up with a smile.

“Just… lunch,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“But lunch just ended?” Karina said, raising an eyebrow, suspicion creeping into her voice.

You were about to come up with another excuse when your blood ran cold. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure in a black cloak and mask stealthily approaching from behind Yuna and Karina.

“Watch out!” you screamed, your voice breaking with urgency. But it was too late.

In an instant, you watched in horror as the knife in Ghostface's hand plunged into Karina’s back. She let out a muffled scream, her body crumpling to the ground.

Yuna spun around, wide-eyed and terrified, but before she could scream, another ghostface appeared from behind her, covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

Two Ghostfaces. You had been right.

All you could do was watch in horror as Karina collapsed, blood pooling around her, and Yuna stood frozen, a knife pressed against her throat.

“This was unscripted… we didn’t foresee that you two would show up,” the Ghostface who had stabbed Karina said, his voice dripping with amusement. He then turned to you, “Come here.”

Your heart raced as you felt a surge of desperation. “No, no, no,” you stammered, instinctively clutching your stomach.

“Come now, or I’ll kill dear Yuna here,” the second Ghostface threatened, his grip tightening on her.

You swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “If I come… will you leave Yuna and Karina alone?” you asked, your voice shaky yet firm.

The two masked figures exchanged a glance before nodding in agreement. “Yes,” one of them finally said, his tone deceptively calm.

Taking a shaky breath, you began to move toward them, each step feeling like a lead weight on your chest. The first Ghostface didn’t appreciate how slow you were walking; he reached out and grabbed your arm harshly, pulling you toward a black van parked nearby.

The same black van you kept seeing.

Your mind raced as he yanked open the door and grabbed something from inside. Before you could react, he swung the back of a gun against your head, and everything went black as you were knocked out cold and thrown into the van.

“Hurry up,” he called, his voice cold and commanding. He cocked the gun as he climbed into the driver’s seat, eyes scanning the parking lot as he prepared to drive away.

The second Ghostface quickly threw Yuna onto the ground beside Karina’s limp body. He climbed into the van, slamming the door behind him as the van peeled out of the parking lot.

“You assholes!! Murderers! Kidnappers!” Yuna screamed, scrambling to Karina’s side. Desperately, she fumbled for her phone, trying to call for help.

Laying still, your unconscious body sprawled on the cold, hard floor of the van, the second Ghostface took advantage of your vulnerable state. He rummaged through the shadows of the cramped interior, his movements swift and practiced. Pulling out a length of rope, he began tying your wrists together, the coarse fibers digging into your skin as he secured the knots tightly.

“Make sure they’re tight; she is too slippery,” the first Ghostface said, his voice commanding.

“I know, I know,” the second one replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. He expertly bound your legs, ensuring there was no chance of escape. Your body, limp and unresisting, was easily maneuverable under his hands. The pressure was overwhelming, but you remained unconscious, unable to register the sensation of the ropes digging into your flesh.

With your limbs secured, the second Ghostface reached for a sack, pulling it over your head and plunging you into darkness.

After a moment, the second Ghostface grabbed your bag from the floor of the van, rifling through its contents with an air of urgency. He pulled out your phone, the screen illuminating the dim space as he turned it over in his hands.

“Remember the code?” the first Ghostface asked.

“Of course I do,” the other replied confidently. He quickly unlocked the device, navigating through your apps with ease.

As he located the location settings, he turned off your tracking feature, ensuring that no one would be able to trace you. With a swift motion, he then powered down your phone entirely, the screen fading to black.

“Perfect,” he said, tossing the phone back into the bag before tossing it aside.

The two of them exchanged glances, a sense of satisfaction washing over them as they finished their preparations.

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The news of your disappearance spread like wildfire, igniting panic and despair in the hearts of those who cared about you. Your family was in shambles, frantically calling and messaging anyone who might have seen you. Your colleagues whispered anxiously in hushed tones, casting worried glances at each other. Your friends, were desperately trying to get the police to take action.

But amid the chaos, Heeseung was a tempest of emotion, sitting in the living room of your shared space. The once-cozy area was now a wreck, furniture overturned and scattered belongings reflecting the turmoil raging within him. He felt like a caged animal, raw anger boiling beneath the surface.

Ddongsik, was safe at Sunoo’s house, and for that, Heeseung was grateful, but the emptiness of the space only amplified his sense of isolation.

He had promised to protect you, to keep you safe from the horrors of the past that had once haunted your lives. And now? Now he felt like a failure. The weight of that failure pressed heavily on his chest, making each breath feel like a struggle. He could hear the echo of his own heartbeat, a relentless reminder that time was slipping away.

His mind raced as he stood up, clenching his fists at his sides. He needed a plan—he couldn’t just sit idly by while you were out there, in danger. There was only one thing to do.

He made his way to the mess on the floor, searching for his phone. As he picked it up, his gaze hardened with determination. He opened his contacts, scrolling until he found the name he needed. Pressing the phone to his ear, he breathed heavily, willing the other person to pick up.

“Pick up,” he muttered under his breath, anxiety coiling tightly in his stomach.

Finally, the call connected. “Get ready. I need you,” he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. There was no time for niceties or explanations; he ended the call almost as quickly as it began.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Heeseung turned and stormed out of the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He jumped into his car, the engine roaring to life as he gripped the wheel with fierce determination. He had somewhere to visit before he came for you.

As he drove off, the night swallowed him in darkness, but a single flame of resolve burned brightly within him. He would not fail you again.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The hospital room was heavy with tension, the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with the palpable anxiety that hung in the air. Karina lay unconscious in the bed, her face pale and peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded her. She was hooked up to various machines, beeping rhythmically, a constant reminder of the fragility of life.

In one corner of the room, Yuna and Taehyun stood, their voices raised as they argued over what to do about your whereabouts.

“What do you mean we can’t just wait? We need to go to the police again!” Yuna insisted, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears threatening to spill over as she glanced at her friend lying in the hospital bed. “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best!”

Taehyun ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “And what do you think will happen if we go to the police again? They’ll just brush us off! We need to figure this out ourselves!” His voice was laced with desperation, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Figure it out how, Taehyun? By yelling at each other? By making each other feel worse?” Yuna shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “We need to be doing something productive, not arguing!”

Before Taehyun could respond, the door swung open, and a couple of nurses entered, their expressions a mix of professionalism and concern. The tension in the room was so thick that it felt like they had walked into a minefield.

“Excuse me, but we can’t have this kind of arguing in here,” one of the nurses said firmly, glancing at Karina and then back at Yuna and Taehyun. “You need to keep your voices down. This is a hospital, and your friend needs to rest.”

Yuna and Taehyun exchanged glances, both realizing that their emotions were getting the better of them. They took a step back, the heat of the moment cooling as they recognized the seriousness of the situation.

“Sorry,” Yuna mumbled, looking down at the floor, shame creeping in as she felt the weight of her worry for Karina.

Taehyun nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “We’re just… worried about her,” he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The nurses moved around the room, checking Karina’s vitals, their movements efficient and calm. One of them smiled reassuringly at Yuna and Taehyun. “We’re doing everything we can for her. She’s a fighter, and she’s in good hands. Just try to stay calm, okay?”

As the nurses continued their work, Yuna took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “We need to think of a plan,” she said, her voice quieter now but still filled with determination. “We can’t let this go on. We have to find Y/N.”

Taehyun's gaze drifted back to Karina, lying unconscious and fragile in her hospital bed. “I know we need a plan, but right now… all we can do is hope that Y/N is still alive.” he finally said, his voice low but steady.

Yuna bit her lip, fighting back tears as she nodded slowly. “I know,” she replied, her voice trembling. “I just… I can’t shake this feeling that something terrible is happening to her. What if they…”

“Stop,” Taehyun interjected, shaking his head. “We can’t think like that. We have to believe she’s okay. We have to believe she’s out there fighting to come back to us.”

Yuna sniffed, tears spilling over her cheeks. “But what if she’s not? What if she’s… trapped or worse?” Her voice broke, the fear spilling out.

“I can’t even entertain that thought,” Taehyun replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Y/N is strong. She’s faced Ghostface before. She’s survived this kind of nightmare. She’s still fighting, I know it. We just have to keep hoping and… and doing whatever we can to help.”

Yuna wiped her tears away, her expression a mixture of sadness and determination. “You’re right."

“Let’s figure out what we can do next,” Taehyun said, his tone resolute. “We need to reach out to everyone who might have seen something or knows something. There’s got to be a lead somewhere.”

Yuna nodded, taking a deep breath as she composed herself. “Okay."

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the lingering fog of unconsciousness. The pain in the back of your head throbbed like a drum, making it difficult to focus. Panic began to rise within you as you realized you couldn’t move. Your wrists and ankles were bound tightly, the ropes biting into your skin as you struggled against them.

The darkness enveloped you, except for the faint glow of the moon filtering through a broken window, casting eerie shadows across the room. You shivered, the chill seeping into your clothes, which were inadequate for the cold air. Your heart raced as you caught a whiff of something metallic and unsettling—a stark contrast to the musty scent of the space. Looking down, you noticed the floor beneath you was stained with dry blood, and the realization made your stomach churn.

Desperate to understand your surroundings, you turned your head, scanning the dimly lit room. That’s when you saw her. Your heart dropped. Sullyeon was lying just a few feet away from you, unconscious and vulnerable. Fear gripped you as you tried to call out to her, but your voice was muffled by the gag that restrained you. Panic coursed through your veins as you wriggled in a futile attempt to free yourself.

“Sullyeon!” you managed to whimper, hoping that somehow your voice would penetrate the haze of her unconsciousness. You struggled to get closer, but the ropes held you firmly in place. You could see the bruises forming on her skin, the remnants of whatever violence had occurred before you both ended up here.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm despite the rising tide of fear. You needed to wake her up; she needed to know she wasn’t alone. You tried again, making sounds that were half whimpers, half grunts, but she remained unresponsive.

“Please, Sullyeon,” you begged silently, your eyes darting around the room for anything that could help. There had to be a way out of this nightmare.

As you shifted slightly, trying to get her attention, the memories of the phone call flooded back—Ghostface, the threats, the urgency. A cold dread settled in your stomach. You couldn’t let despair take hold. You had to stay strong, for both of you.

With a sudden determination, you began to rock your body back and forth, hoping to dislodge the ropes binding you. If you could just get free, you could help Sullyeon and find a way out of this place.

With a sudden jolt, your efforts to rock the chair back and forth became too intense. The chair tipped over, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard floor. A sharp pain shot through your side, and you groaned, the impact making your head spin.

In a frantic effort, you managed to pull the gag from your mouth, feeling the coarse fabric scrape against your lips. The taste of the cloth was metallic, and you spat it out, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. You took a moment to steady yourself, but before you could formulate a plan, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

As you looked up, your heart sank.

Two figures loomed over you, their silhouettes barely illuminated by the faint light filtering through the broken window. Instinctively, you narrowed your eyes, fueled by anger and a desperate need for escape.

“Look who’s awake!” one of them exclaimed, a mocking cheerfulness in his voice that sent a chill down your spine. You could feel the smirk behind the ghostly mask.

“Sorry for the mess, it’s a rent,” the other one chimed in, a tone of faux apology lacing his words.

“We got it for free!” the first one added, a laugh bubbling up from beneath the mask.

You felt your stomach churn as the harsh reality of your situation settled in. They had been joking about this—about the chaos and pain they were causing. You glared at them, the fire of your hatred burning in your chest.

Now that you were up close, you noticed the details you had missed before. The lean Ghostface wore a mask that seemed almost sad, its eyes downturned, as if it were mourning something. The other Ghostface, however, wore a bloodied mask, the crimson streaks an unsettling contrast against the white surface. Each mask told a story of violence and despair, one of them hiding behind a facade of sorrow while the other relished in the brutality.

“Let me go!” you spat, your voice hoarse and filled with venom. “You think this is funny?”

The taller one chuckled, leaning closer to you. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s not about the laughter. It’s about the thrill. And you… you’re the main event.”

The sad one stepped forward, a strange glimmer of something almost empathetic flickering behind the sad mask. “We didn’t want to hurt you, but you know how it is. This is just business.”

“Business?” you repeated, incredulous. “You’re monsters!”

“Monsters?” the bloodied one echoed, tilting his head. “That’s rich coming from you. You think you’re the victim here?"

Your heart raced as they loomed over you, their words slicing through the air like a knife. “What do you want from me?” you demanded, determination mingling with fear.

“Oh, we want you to play,” the bloodied Ghostface said with a sinister smile. “A little game of cat and mouse. And you, my dear, are the mouse.”

Before you could respond, they both lunged forward, grabbing you by the arms and hauling you back to your feet, forcing you to stand despite the pain shooting through your body.

“Welcome to the show,” the sad-masked Ghostface said, his tone almost playful, sending another wave of dread through you. “You see, you’re not the only one who’s been through something traumatic. It’s your turn to entertain us.”

You felt your stomach drop as the implications of his words settled in. This wasn’t just about you; it was a twisted game for their enjoyment, and you were the unwilling participant.

“Let Sullyeon go!” you shouted, your voice ringing with desperation. “She hasn’t done anything!”

The bloodied mask ghostface stepped closer, his tone mocking. “Oh, but we’ve got plans for her too. Just sit tight. The fun is about to begin.”

They began to drag you toward the grimey window the room, and you searched for a way out. You knew you had to think fast. The stakes had never been higher, and your survival depended on your wits and strength.

You glanced around the dimly lit room, searching for anything you could use to your advantage. The moonlight streamed in through the broken window, illuminating the remnants of what looked like a former living space—a few scattered pieces of furniture, a shattered mirror, and remnants of something that looked like a previous struggle.

You felt the blood drain from your face as the bloodied-masked Ghostface dragged Sullyeon’s unconscious body across the forest floor. “No, no, no!” you gasped, panic surging through you. You struggled against the ropes binding you to the chair, but it was no use.

The view sent chills down your spine—the back of the abandoned house opened up to a dense forest, but it was the graveyard that made your heart drop. Rows of crooked tombstones jutted out of the ground, silhouetted against the night sky.

“Front row tickets!” the sad-masked Ghostface chuckled darkly, leaning against you. You opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but your words caught in your throat as you watched the bloodied-masked one throw Sullyeon to the forest floor like a discarded rag doll.

“Leave her alone!” you shouted, voice trembling as he cut the ropes binding her legs, leaving her wrists tied. The next moment, he doused her with a bucket of cold water, and you watched in horror as she sputtered awake, confusion flashing across her face. In a panic, she bolted upright, and ran.

“Run! Sullyeon, run!” you screamed, your voice hoarse with fear, but it fell on deaf ears. The bloodied mask Ghostface waited a moment, a sinister grin etched on his mask, before he took off after her, his movements smooth.

You felt helpless, chained to the chair as you watched Sullyeon sprint into the night, desperation fueling her flight. But he was faster, and as you screamed for her to escape, your heart sank further with each agonizing second.

“No! Sullyeon!” you screamed, desperate to reach her, but the ropes only dug deeper into your wrists as you struggled against your restraints. “Leave her alone! We had a deal!”

But your cries fell on deaf ears as the bloodied-masked Ghostface swiftly caught up to her. You watched in horror as he plunged the knife into her back. “No!” you screamed again, but the sound only echoed back at you in the empty night.

Sullyeon collapsed onto the graveyard floor, her body going limp. “Sullyeon!” you cried, tears streaming down your face as the ghostface loomed over her. He dragged her lifeless form toward a freshly dug grave, and you felt your heart shatter as he threw her down into the dark hole.

“No! You assholes! You liars!” you screamed, the weight of the loss crushing down on you. “You promised!”

The sad-masked Ghostface dragged you away from the window, and you thrashed against his grip. “Easy there, sweetcheeks,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “We used her as an example for you. For now, we won’t hurt you, but only if you behave.”

He pulled the gag back over your mouth, tying it tightly around your head as you glared defiantly at him, tears blurring your vision. “Now stay put,” he said, patting your cheek as if you were a pet. You watched him retreat, the door clicking shut behind him.

You screamed and cursed through the gag, frustration boiling over, but the futility of your situation crashed over you like a wave. Hours felt like days as you lay there in the darkness, staring up at the moon through the window, shivering from the chill that seeped into your bones.

It was too late. You had failed to save Sullyeon, and the weight of that reality hung heavy in the air, suffocating you with despair.

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As you sat in the chair, tied and gagged, you found yourself slipping in and out of sleep, the exhaustion taking its toll on your body. The pain in your wrists from the rough ropes and the ache in your head from the earlier blow pulsed rhythmically with each breath. Each time you closed your eyes, darkness enveloped you, bringing a brief respite from your grim reality, but it never lasted long before the cold or hunger stirred you back to consciousness.

When the sun finally crested the horizon, its light streamed through the broken window, casting soft beams across the room. You groaned, your voice muffled against the gag, as you blinked against the brightness, still feeling the remnants of your nightmares. Alone. The room felt empty, a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed your life just days ago.

Hours dragged on, and the sunlight slowly faded, giving way to a dimming sky. You had no sense of time, but the shadows creeping along the walls told you the sun had sunk low, and with it, your hope flickered like a dying flame. Your stomach grumbled painfully, a reminder of your hunger that gnawed at you, sharper with each passing moment. You wished for water, for anything to quell the parched feeling in your throat.

As the house settled into quiet, an eerie stillness enveloped you. The only sounds were the creaking of the old structure and the rustle of the wind outside. You wondered if you were alone most of the time in this desolate place. Was there no one watching over you? Or were they simply waiting for the right moment to return?

Your heart raced as you listened intently for any sounds in the house. The stillness was unnerving, and after what felt like an eternity of waiting, you slowly began nudging the chair you were tied to, grunting with the effort. You strained against the ropes, desperate for freedom, and with a sudden shift, the chair tipped over, sending you crashing to the floor. A small voice of victory escaped your lips as you fell, exhilaration flooding through you.

You quickly quieted down, ears straining for any response, but silence enveloped you. Cautiously, you looked around the room and your gaze fell on a shard of broken glass scattered on the floor. You didn’t know if it was from the window or a mirror, but it didn’t matter. It was your only chance.

With shaky hands, you grabbed the glass, carefully positioning it against the ropes binding your wrists. You began to saw back and forth, your heart pounding as you focused on freeing yourself. Time became a blur, each agonizing second stretching out as you desperately worked at the ropes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you felt the tightness give way enough to slip your hands free. You quickly pulled the gag from your mouth, relief flooding over you as you gasped in the stale air, smacking your dry lips.

No time to celebrate. You grabbed the glass again, using it to cut the ropes around your legs before standing unsteadily. The hunger and exhaustion fought against you, but adrenaline propelled you forward as you made your way to the door. You pulled down the handle and pushed it open, peeking out into the empty hallway.

Cautiously, you tiptoed down the corridor, heart racing, until you heard a front door slam shut. Panic gripped you as the voices of the two Ghostfaces echoed through the house. You quickly scanned your surroundings and spotted a half-open door nearby. You slipped inside, barely breathing as you listened.

You glanced around the room, taking in the dimly lit space before your eyes landed on an open window. Freedom lay just outside.

You climbed out of the window, carefully navigating the shards of glass that crunched underfoot as you made your way onto the roof of the veranda. The cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the stifling darkness inside. Just as you steadied yourself, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, making your heart race. You ducked down, pressing your body against the sloped roof, praying they wouldn’t see you.

Voices erupted from inside, panic lacing their words. “She’s gone!” one shouted, the urgency in his tone sending chills down your spine. “Where did she go?” another replied, their frantic footsteps pounding against the floor. “He’s gonna kill us!”

You knew you had to keep moving, and carefully, you made your way to the edge of the roof. Peeking over, you assessed the ground below; it was a good drop, but you didn’t have time to think about it.

Suddenly, you saw the sad-masked Ghostface poking his head out of the window, his finger pointing directly at you. “There she is!” he yelled, and your heart dropped into your stomach.

In a panic, you leaped off the roof, hitting the ground hard. Pain shot through your legs, but you didn’t stop to assess the damage. You forced yourself to your feet and sprinted away from the house, the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Get her!” you heard behind you. “She’s running!” the voice filled with a twisted excitement.

You sprinted past the graveyard, heart pounding as you raced into the thick embrace of the forest. Branches whipped at your face and legs, but you didn’t stop. You had to keep moving, had to put distance between you and the twisted faces of your captors.

You had to escape. You had to survive.

You pushed deeper into the forest, branches clawing at your arms and legs as you ran. The dense canopy overhead blocked out most of the moonlight, casting the woods into a near-complete darkness that was both disorienting and comforting. You had a good head start, but you could still hear their footsteps crashing through the underbrush behind you. The sounds grew louder, closer, and dread pooled in your stomach.

The forest was a double-edged sword; the thick trees and foliage offered you cover but also limited your visibility and speed. You had to be careful not to trip over roots or lose your bearings. Every time you heard a twig snap or a branch break, panic surged through you. They were hunting you, and every moment counted.

You darted around a massive oak tree, momentarily hidden from view, and pressed your back against its rough bark, trying to catch your breath. You could hear them yelling to each other, their voices echoing through the trees, frustration evident in their shouts. “She went this way!” one called, his tone filled with a mix of anger and eagerness.

You took a moment to listen, heart racing, hoping that they would miss you. The darkness felt heavy around you, and you tried to calm your racing thoughts. You had to think strategically. If they were coming from behind, then you needed to move laterally—find a way to confuse them.

As you carefully peeked around the tree, you spotted a narrow path weaving through the underbrush, leading deeper into the forest. Taking a deep breath, you made a decision. You would have to take the risk.

You slipped away from the tree and sprinted down the path, forcing your legs to keep moving despite the exhaustion that was beginning to creep in. You could hear the muffled sounds of their pursuit behind you, but the dense trees began to obscure their voices.

You focused on the path ahead, your heart pounding in your ears, urging you to go faster. The moonlight broke through the canopy occasionally, illuminating your way and giving you just enough light to navigate the twists and turns of the forest.

You pushed yourself, heart racing, as you dodged branches and ducked under low-hanging limbs. You didn’t know where the path led, but it had to be better than staying in the open. You needed to find a place to hide—somewhere they couldn’t reach you.

In the distance, you heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps growing closer, but you were determined not to let them catch you. You had to survive. You would fight for your life.

You were pushing yourself to keep moving, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your heart raced as you tried to look behind you, desperate to gauge how close they were. That was the exact moment your foot caught on a root hidden beneath the leaves. You tumbled forward, unable to regain your balance, and fell down a steep ravine, the world spinning as you plummeted.

The impact was jarring. You groaned in pain, your wrist twisting awkwardly beneath you as you landed hard on the rocky ground. Pain shot through your arm, and you instinctively clutched at it, biting back a scream. Panic surged as you glanced up, the sound of your pursuer's footsteps growing louder.

Peering through the dim light, you caught sight of the sad-masked Ghostface peering over the edge of the ravine, a sinister smile painted on his mask. "I found you," he said, his voice dripping with a twisted satisfaction.

Fear washed over you, igniting a primal instinct to survive. You screamed, the sound echoing in the hollow of the ravine, before you scrambled to your feet, pain radiating from your wrist but ignoring it in the rush of adrenaline. You could hear him chuckling above, but you didn’t have time to think about that.

You ran again, the ground uneven beneath your feet, struggling to navigate the rocks and brush. The ravine was deeper than you had thought, and as you ran, your breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation laced with desperation. The darkness felt suffocating, but you forced yourself to focus on finding a way out.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind you, their rhythm growing closer. “You can’t escape!” the sad-masked Ghostface taunted, his voice mocking. You didn’t dare look back; you just ran, hoping that the terrain would slow him down.

Just ahead, you spotted a narrow path leading up the opposite side of the ravine. It was steep, but it was your only chance. You pushed yourself harder, legs burning as you climbed, using the rocks and roots for leverage. You had to get to the top before he reached you.

With every ounce of strength, you finally reached the edge, pulling yourself up and scrambling onto solid ground. You turned to look back, panting heavily, heart racing. The sad-masked Ghostface stood at the edge of the ravine, frustration evident in his stance, but he was still trying to find a way down.

You took a moment to catch your breath, scanning your surroundings for any potential escape routes. You needed to keep moving. You had to stay one step ahead.

You would find a way out. You had to.

You ducked behind a thick tree, heart pounding in your chest as you leaned against the rough bark. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you peeked around the trunk, scanning for any sign of the sad-masked Ghostface. Relief flooded over you when you saw that he was no longer at the top of the ravine. It seemed for a moment that you had escaped.

The forest around you was eerily quiet, a stillness that felt both comforting and unsettling. You laid your head back against the tree, allowing yourself a moment to breathe. Your wrist throbbed painfully, a reminder of your fall, but the fear of being caught kept you from fully assessing the damage.

As you gathered your thoughts and tried to prepare for your next move, you heard nothing—no footsteps, no voices, nothing. The silence wrapped around you like a shroud, and you began to consider moving again, to find a safer place to hide.

Just as you were about to step out from behind the tree, a sudden chill ran down your spine. You glanced up, and to your horror, two figures emerged from behind the trees directly in front of you. Both Ghostfaces stepped into view, their masks eerily expressionless but the glint of malice in their eyes unmistakable.

“How?” you shouted, your voice shaking with disbelief and fear. You hadn’t heard them approaching at all.

The two of them exchanged glances, a silent communication that sent dread pooling in your stomach. Before you could react, they lunged at you simultaneously. Panic surged through you, and you ducked to the side just in time to avoid the first swipe of a knife.

You stumbled backward, your heart racing as you searched for a way to escape. You darted to the left, narrowly avoiding a second strike, but you felt a sharp tug at your shirt as one of them grabbed you. You twisted in their grip, desperate to break free, but the other Ghostface was closing in fast.

“Get away from me!” you shouted, adrenaline fueling your struggle as you fought against the grip tightening around your arms.

Just as you thought you might break free, you caught a glimpse of the knife glinting in the moonlight. The sight sent a wave of terror through you, and you kicked out with all your strength, managing to break free from the hold of one of them. You turned to run, the fear propelling you forward as you dashed into the dense underbrush.

Branches whipped against your arms and legs, but you pressed on, knowing you couldn’t stop. The sounds of their pursuit echoed behind you, taunts mixing with the rustling of leaves and snapping twigs as they followed closely. The forest felt alive, every sound amplifying the danger that lurked in the shadows.

“Keep running!” one of them shouted, laughter tinged with malice. “You’re just making this more fun!”

You knew you had to find a way to outsmart them, to lose them in the twisting paths of the forest. You pushed your aching body to its limits, desperation giving you strength as you darted through the trees, your only thought to survive.

You pushed yourself through the underbrush, every instinct screaming at you to keep moving. The adrenaline coursed through your veins, sharpening your senses as you spotted a thick bush up ahead. You dove behind it just as you heard the crunch of leaves behind you.

“They’re getting slower,” you muttered under your breath, your heart racing. You knew that if you could just outsmart them for a moment, you might buy yourself some time.

As they drew nearer, you grabbed a handful of small stones scattered on the ground and hurled them toward the right, creating a loud clatter. Instantly, the two Ghostfaces turned their attention in that direction. Seizing the moment, you dashed to the left, weaving through the trees and thick underbrush.

“Split up!” you heard one of them shout, and you felt a surge of hope. If they were separated, you could evade them more easily.

But as you ducked under branches and maneuvered around roots, you could hear them regaining their ground. The forest felt like a maze, and you used every trick you could think of to keep them at bay. You grabbed a low-hanging branch and swung it toward one of them as he approached, hitting him hard enough to knock him off balance. He stumbled back, but the other was still closing in fast.

“Get her!” he shouted, lunging at you with the knife. You barely dodged his swipe, feeling the cold air rush past as the blade narrowly missed you.

You picked up a nearby rock and hurled it at him, hitting his shoulder. “Hey! Watch where you’re throwing that!” He cursed, and that moment of surprise was enough to buy you a few precious seconds. You dashed deeper into the woods, panting heavily, but you could hear the two of them coordinating their chase.

But as the chase continued, you could feel your strength waning. Each time you narrowly avoided their attacks, they managed to graze you, leaving cuts on your arms and torso. Your shirt soaked through with blood, but you pressed on, driven by the need to survive.

Eventually, you reached a clearing with a thick tree trunk at its center. Thinking quickly, you ducked behind it, hoping they would run past you. The moment they did, you bolted from your hiding spot, adrenaline pushing you forward once more.

But just as you thought you might escape, you turned to see the other Ghostface emerge from the other side of the clearing, blocking your path. Panic surged through you as you realized you were surrounded.

“Gotcha!” one of them laughed, and before you could react, they lunged at you. You fought back with everything you had, kicking and screaming as you tried to break free. But their combined strength overwhelmed you.

They tackled you to the ground, pinning you down. You struggled, but it was no use; they were too strong, and exhaustion was creeping in fast. As they restrained you, you felt the sharp prick of a knife close to your throat, and your body froze in fear.

“Stop moving, or we’ll make this much worse,” the bloodied Ghostface warned, his voice low and dangerous.

With one final effort, you tried to twist away, but it only earned you a sharp jab to the side. Pain shot through you, and the world began to spin.

“Just relax,” the sad-masked Ghostface said, his tone almost mocking as he tightened his grip. “You’ll be out of here in no time.”

You were outnumbered and outmatched. The last thing you saw was the glint of a knife above you before everything faded to black as they knocked you out cold.

When you regained consciousness, it was in a haze. You met with the dim light filtering through the broken windows of the living room. The room was eerily quiet except for the sound of your labored breathing and the faint creaks of the old house settling around you.

The cold floor beneath you sent shivers through your body. You tried to move, but the ropes binding your wrists and ankles were tight, digging into your skin with each futile attempt to wriggle free. Panic rose within you as you recalled the last moments of your freedom before they had caught you again.

As your vision cleared, you spotted the two Ghostfaces nearby, their masks glinting ominously in the low light. The sad-masked one leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while the other one paced back and forth like a caged animal.

“Not letting you out of our sight,” the sad-masked one said, a sinister grin hidden behind the mask.

“No glass now to cut yourself loose,” the other added, his voice low and mocking.

You glared at them, anger bubbling beneath your fear. “You won’t get away with this!” you spat, your voice hoarse and weak.

The pacing Ghostface stopped and turned to you, tilting his head as if considering your words. “Oh, but we already have,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’re all ours now."

The weight of his words settled heavily on your chest. You had no idea how much time had passed since your abduction or if anyone was even searching for you anymore. You felt utterly alone, but you couldn’t let them see your fear.

“I won’t give up,” you replied defiantly, though your voice quivered.

The sad-masked Ghostface chuckled softly. “That’s the spirit! But you might want to reconsider your chances. It’s just the two of us now, and we’re not afraid to make it more… interesting.”

You swallowed hard, feeling dread wash over you as they exchanged glances, their twisted excitement palpable. Desperation clawed at your insides. You needed to think of a way out, to use whatever time you had before they decided to make good on their threats.

The room felt stifling, the ropes around your limbs a constant reminder of your captivity. You started to shift your wrists, trying to find any weakness in the bonds. If you could just loosen them enough, maybe you could break free.

As you moved, the sad-masked Ghostface stepped closer, watching you intently. “What’s the matter? Trying to escape? You really think you can get away from us?”

You froze, your heart racing as he crouched down beside you, his mask mere inches from your face. “You should know by now that we always win.”

You locked eyes with him, steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm you. “We’ll see about that,” you challenged, even as the weight of your reality pressed heavily upon you.

The pacing Ghostface resumed his movements, and as you carefully continued to twist your wrists, you felt the slightest give in the ropes. Hope ignited within you. You just had to buy time until you could get loose.

The tension in the room escalated as the two Ghostfaces began to argue amongst themselves. The bloodied masked one was clearly furious, his voice low and threatening as he paced back and forth. The sad-masked one stood there, arms crossed, seemingly unfazed by his partner’s anger.

When they turned their attention back to you, and the sad-masked one approached, tilting his head with a curious yet predatory look. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?” he said, leaning closer. “Tell us about the first Ghostface. Is he alive? Do you know where he is?”

You stared back defiantly, refusing to answer. His questions felt like bait, and you wouldn’t take it.

Frustrated, the bloodied Ghostface stepped in, his tone turning accusatory. “What about the second Ghostface? Taehyung! What happened to him?”

Your heart dropped at the mention of his name, shock coursing through you. You had never expected to hear about Taehyung from them, and the sudden realization that they knew about him sent your mind racing.

“What do you know about him?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, instinctively defensive.

“Doesn’t matter,” the bloodied Ghostface growled, moving closer. “What matters is what you know. So, are you going to tell us, or are we going to have to make this… unpleasant?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. “They’re both gone,” you shouted defiantly, your voice echoing off the walls. “You’ll never find them!”

Both Ghostfaces stilled at your words, exchanging a glance that sent a shiver down your spine. You could see the anger and frustration brewing between them, and you knew you had struck a nerve.

“You think you can play games with us?” the bloodied one hissed, stepping even closer. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

The sad-masked one smirked, the corners of his mask curling upward. “Seems like you’re not going to cooperate, which means we have to resort to other methods.”

You steeled yourself, fully aware of the implications. “Go ahead. I’m not afraid of you,” you retorted, even though a part of you trembled at the thought of what they might do.

They exchanged another glance, and you could see their minds working. You had no idea what they had in store, but you were prepared to fight back against whatever twisted game they intended to play.

The bloodied Ghostface turned to you, his tone low and menacing. “You may think you’re tough, but we have ways to get the truth out of you. You’ll regret not talking soon enough.”

As they stepped back, you braced yourself.

As the two Ghostfaces approached with their knives glinting ominously, your breath hitched in fear. Your heart raced, and your mind instinctively went to Heeseung. Was he safe? Was he even looking for you? You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable pain.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump followed by grunts of pain. You heard bodies crashing to the floor, but felt no pain. Cautiously, you opened your eyes—and gasped.

Standing before you was another Ghostface. His mask was dirtied, the cloak torn and stained. In his hand, he held a heavy plank, which he had clearly used to knock out the other two. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to process what you were seeing.

"You…" you started, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Without a word, the Ghostface dropped the plank and, with deliberate movements, pulled the dirty mask up just enough to reveal his face. Your heart skipped a beat.

It was Heeseung.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the sight of him—your Heeseung, standing there in front of you, having just saved you. “How?” you whispered, barely able to find your voice, overwhelmed with relief and shock.

Heeseung’s expression was intense but softened as he pulled the mask back down over his face. "Sorry I didn’t get here sooner," he said quietly, immediately kneeling beside you. He picked up one of the knives from the ground and quickly began cutting through the binds around your wrists. "It was harder than I thought to track you down."

As soon as your hands were free, he gave you the other knife. You stood up, your legs trembling as the reality of your rescue sank in. And then, without hesitation, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around you in return, holding you close as your tears of happiness flowed freely.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you cried into his shoulder, your voice muffled by the cloak he still wore.

“I promised I’d protect you, didn’t I?” Heeseung whispered, his grip tightening as if he’d never let go. You could feel the weight of his words—he had come for you, just like he said he would.

The two Ghostfaces stirred, groaning in pain, they struggled to stand upright. The bloodied-masked one wiped his hands on his cloak and pointed at Heeseung, his voice rough. "You! Who the hell are you?"

Heeseung straightened up, his presence commanding and cold. He held the knife tightly, his stance shifting as he met their eyes. "I understand you two were looking for me?" His voice dropped, deep and dangerous, the same chilling tone you recognized from the past—the voice he’d used back when he first called you, before everything had changed. Before he’d fallen in love with you. Before he had planned to kill you.

You couldn’t help but shiver, the memories flooding back.

The sad-masked Ghostface tilted his head, his voice laced with confusion and awe. "You… you're him?"

Heeseung took a step forward, eyes narrowing behind the mask. "I’m the original."

At those words, the two Ghostfaces exchanged quick, shocked glances, the realization hitting them hard. Their curiosity quickly spiraled into a barrage of questions.

"What happened to you?" the sad-masked one asked, his voice trembling with a mix of admiration and fear. "Why did you vanish?"

"Why are you back now?" the bloodied one chimed in, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. "And where is Taehyung? The second Ghostface?"

The room was tense, the weight of their questions hanging in the air. Heeseung's eyes darkened, his grip on the knife tightening as he stared them down. There was no trace of the loving partner you knew in this moment—this was the cold, ruthless version of him they were dealing with.

"I had my reasons for disappearing," Heeseung said, his voice steady, calculated. "But trust me when I say—you're making the same mistakes we did. And as for Taehyung…" Heeseung’s gaze flickered, a flash of something unreadable crossing his features. "He’s gone. Permanently."

The silence in the room was deafening as the two Ghostfaces processed his words, shifting uneasily. They had no idea what they were truly up against now.

The two Ghostfaces exchanged glances, clearly unsettled by Heeseung’s words. The bloodied-masked one shifted his stance, gripping his knife tighter, but there was hesitation now. "Gone? What do you mean he's gone?" His voice was laced with frustration and confusion.

Heeseung’s gaze was unrelenting, his calm demeanor only making the tension thicker. "Taehyung made a choice. One that cost him his life." His voice was low, deliberate, sending a shiver through you. He glanced at you for a brief moment, his expression softening, before returning his cold stare to the two Ghostfaces.

"You're lying," the sad-masked one spat, taking a step forward. "He wouldn’t just die. You did something to him, didn't you?"

Heeseung remained motionless, the knife in his hand glinting under the dim light. "It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you two are playing a game you can’t win."

The bloodied Ghostface’s grip on his knife wavered slightly as he processed Heeseung’s words. Heeseung’s presence was overpowering, and you could see the doubt creeping into their movements. They had wanted to emulate the original, to bring back the fear and chaos, but now they were standing face to face with the source of it all. And they weren’t prepared.

"You think you can just walk in here and take over?" the bloodied Ghostface sneered, trying to regain some control. "We’ve planned this for years. We’re not going to let you ruin it!"

Heeseung stepped forward, his knife raising slightly, his voice dark and taunting. "Ruin it? You’ve already ruined yourselves. The moment you decided to come after her"—he motioned toward you—"you sealed your fate."

Before they could react, Heeseung lunged forward with a precision that was terrifying to watch. His knife sliced through the air, and the bloodied Ghostface barely managed to dodge the strike, stumbling backward. The sad-masked one, too slow to react, was left vulnerable. Heeseung’s movements were fluid, quick, and within moments, he had knocked the sad-masked one to the ground with a powerful kick.

You stood frozen, gripping the knife he had given you, your heart pounding. Heeseung was a different person now—cold, relentless, and efficient. You had always known he had this side, but seeing it again, now, reminded you of the past when he wasn’t your savior, but your enemy.

The bloodied Ghostface rushed at Heeseung, but Heeseung sidestepped with ease, slashing his knife across the Ghostface’s arm. A scream of pain filled the room as the bloodied Ghostface dropped his weapon, clutching his bleeding arm.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Heeseung muttered, his voice filled with contempt. "You’re nothing but cheap copies."

Heeseung’s knife pressed against the sad-masked one’s throat as he pinned him to the ground. The bloodied one, still holding his arm, looked on in desperation, knowing he was outmatched.

"Please," the sad-masked Ghostface whimpered, his voice shaking. "We were just trying to continue what you started."

Heeseung looked down at him, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. For a moment, you wondered if he’d show mercy.

"You never understood," Heeseung said coldly. "This was never about continuing. It was always about ending."

The bloodied Ghostface, desperate and enraged, let out a roar as he lunged at Heeseung from behind. Heeseung, quick and unphased, sidestepped and grabbed the bloodied one's arm, twisting it sharply before flipping him over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor with a painful thud. The bloodied one groaned, clutching his side, but his sudden attack gave the sad-masked one just enough time to back away and regroup with him.

The two Ghostfaces stood together now, breathing heavily, shaken but determined. Heeseung's cold eyes followed their every move, his grip on the knife unwavering. He pointed it at them, the air thick with tension. "Who even are you?" Heeseung demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"We are the remnant of the past," they both said in unison, their voices hollow behind the masks.

Without another word, the two Ghostfaces charged at Heeseung again, this time in perfect sync, a relentless force determined to bring him down. They swung their knives with wild fury, but Heeseung was faster, dodging and countering with sharp, calculated movements. Each clash of metal rang out in the room, the echoes of their battle filling the dark space.

Heeseung deflected their attacks, his focus unbreakable. He managed to slice across the sad-masked one’s arm, drawing blood, but the other seized the moment and slashed at Heeseung’s side. He grunted, taking the hit but not faltering, spinning around with a quick kick that sent the bloodied one stumbling back.

"You’re just like the others," Heeseung muttered through gritted teeth, his breathing heavy but controlled. "Thinking you can survive this. But you won’t."

The sad-masked Ghostface, now visibly injured, glanced at his partner. They were clearly weakening, their moves becoming sloppy. But they weren’t giving up. They circled Heeseung again, trying to flank him from both sides.

Heeseung shifted his stance, readying himself. This was far from over.

You watched, heart racing, knowing the stakes. Heeseung wasn’t just fighting for himself—he was fighting for you.

Suddenly the sad-masked Ghostface made a beeline for you, you bolted, your legs carrying you as fast as they could into a nearby kitchen. The adrenaline coursing through your veins drowned out the fear, but only barely. You looked around wildly for anything to defend yourself with, your heart pounding. Before you could react, he tackled you from behind, slamming you into the cold kitchen tiles.

He raised his knife high, ready to bring it down on you. In desperation, you gripped your own knife tightly and thrust it upward, piercing his stomach. He shouted in pain, his strike going wild and stabbing your shoulder instead. A scream ripped from your throat as he yanked the blade out, preparing to stab you again.

Just as he was about to deliver the final blow, something—or someone—grabbed him by the scruff of his cloak and hurled him off you. Gasping in shock, you looked up and saw a figure standing above you. Unlike the others, this Ghostface wore a black mask instead of the iconic white.

"Hey, Y/N! Long time no see!" the voice was almost cheery, and you blinked in confusion.

“Huh?” you muttered, dazed and unsure of what was happening.

Before you could even process, the sad-masked Ghostface charged again, but the black-masked figure reacted instantly, delivering a brutal kick followed by a series of punches that sent the sad-masked assailant flying out of the kitchen.

Heeseung rushed in just then, his eyes frantic as he saw you on the floor, bloodied but alive. "Let's go! Let's go!" he yelled, grabbing you under one arm, while the black-masked Ghostface took your other side. They practically carried you as you all ran toward the front door, only to find it blocked by the bloodied Ghostface, his knife gleaming in the dim light.

"Upstairs!" Heeseung barked, and the three of you rushed up the staircase, racing into a room at the end of the hall. Slamming the door shut behind you, they quickly barricaded it with anything they could find, their movements fast and desperate.

"I have a plan!" the black-masked Ghostface said, catching his breath.

"What’s your plan?" Heeseung asked, still on high alert.

"It involves fire," the black-masked figure answered, nonchalantly as if this was an everyday conversation.

"What?" Heeseung shot back, clearly not expecting that answer.

"Can someone tell me what's happening?!" you shouted, the frustration and confusion finally boiling over. None of this made any sense. Your shoulder throbbed, and you were bleeding, cornered in a strange house with two people you were barely keeping up with.

Both Heeseung and the black-masked figure turned to you. The black-masked figure tilted his head before casually pulling the mask up.

"Jake?!" you exclaimed, your jaw dropping.

"Heya!" Jake grinned, far too cheerful for the situation.

"You're Ghostface too?!" You were more shocked than angry, your mind barely able to wrap around the revelation. Jake, your friend—now in the same mask that had haunted you—was standing there like this was just a reunion.

Heeseung, shaking his head, sighed and looked over at Jake. "So… fire?"

Jake shrugged. "Yeah, I think burning this place down should work. It’ll take care of those two, right?"

Heeseung frowned, glancing at you before looking back at Jake. "You're serious about this?"

"Dead serious," Jake said, his eyes darkening a bit, the lightness in his tone shifting.

The door rattled violently as the pounding from the other side intensified. You, Heeseung, and Jake all stiffened, your hearts racing as the room filled with tension. Without warning, the door was kicked open, crashing against the wall with a deafening bang. Two Ghostfaces stormed into the room—one with the bloodied mask and the other with the sad mask. But now, the fight was even. Heeseung and Jake, still wearing their masks, leaped into action.

Chaos erupted instantly.

You stood frozen for a moment, watching as four Ghostfaces, indistinguishable in the frenzy of movement, attacked and dodged each other with precision and fury. Knives clashed, bodies collided, and the room became a whirlwind of violence. The sound of grunts, thuds, and the sharp swish of blades cutting through the air overwhelmed your senses.

Jake, with a sudden burst of energy, lunged at the sad-masked Ghostface, driving him into the wall. The two struggled, their knives clashing as they wrestled for control. Heeseung, on the other side, faced off against the bloodied Ghostface, their movements fast and brutal. You could hear the sound of blades slicing through fabric, followed by the occasional grunt of pain as both sides took hits.

You felt utterly helpless. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pressed yourself against the farthest wall, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty. Every instinct told you to run, but there was nowhere to go. The only exit was blocked by the chaos unfolding in front of you.

At one point, Heeseung was thrown back, his knife skidding across the floor and stopping near your feet. You gasped, crouching down to grab it, your hands trembling and threw it back to him. As you stood up, you saw Jake take a punch to the gut, causing him to stagger back, his grip on his own knife loosening.

You wanted to help, to do something—anything—but the intensity of the fight made it clear that stepping in could cost you your life. You clutched your knife tightly, your fingers white-knuckled, but your feet refused to move. The sight of the four Ghostfaces, each donning their masks as they fought in a blur of black robes and flashing blades, left you feeling paralyzed with fear.

The sad-masked Ghostface managed to push Jake to the ground and swung his knife down, but Jake rolled out of the way just in time, delivering a swift kick that knocked his attacker back. Heeseung, meanwhile, grappled with the bloodied one, both of them trading blows and slashes, their masks stained with sweat and fury.

The room became smaller with each passing second, the violent dance of the Ghostfaces making it hard to breathe. You clutched your chest, unsure how much longer this battle would last, or if any of you would make it out alive.

A loud crash snapped you back to reality as one of the Ghostfaces—Jake, you realized—was thrown against a dresser, causing it to splinter under the force. The sad-masked Ghostface was relentless, advancing toward Jake with his knife raised, ready to strike again. Heeseung, locked in his own fight, couldn’t break free to help. You were the only one who could stop it.

Your heart pounded as you looked down at the knife in your hand. Could you do it? Could you actually fight back?

With a shaky breath, you took a step forward, ready to make a choice.

As the sad-masked Ghostface raised his knife to strike Jake, your body moved before your mind could catch up. You lunged forward, gripping the knife. Your legs felt weak, and your heart hammered in your chest, but you knew you had to act.

With a scream, you plunged the knife into the side of the sad-masked Ghostface just as his arm came down to strike Jake. The blade sliced into him, and he let out a guttural gasp, his body freezing in place. He staggered back, his knife slipping from his grasp and clattering to the floor as he looked down at the wound you had inflicted.

Jake quickly scrambled to his feet, panting, his eyes wide as he took in what had just happened. "Y/N!" he gasped, momentarily shocked by your actions.

The sad-masked Ghostface stumbled back, clutching his side, blood seeping through his robes. His masked face turned toward you, his breathing ragged and uneven.

Before you could react, Heeseung, who had just disarmed the bloodied Ghostface, surged forward, his knife flashing as he delivered a brutal slash across the sad-masked Ghostface's chest. The man collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain, his mask tilted to one side as he struggled to breathe.

You stood there, panting, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you realized what you had done. You had attacked him. You had saved Jake.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The bloodied Ghostface, seeing his partner fall, let out a roar of rage and lunged toward you with reckless fury. Heeseung was there in an instant, blocking his path and shoving him back. The two clashed violently, their movements fast and deadly.

Jake, now on his feet and regaining his composure, grabbed his knife and moved to help Heeseung. Together, they forced the bloodied Ghostface into a corner, their attacks coordinated and relentless. Heeseung landed a powerful punch to the masked figure’s jaw, causing the bloodied Ghostface to stumble.

As the dust settled from the chaotic struggle, Jake and Heeseung wasted no time in pulling the masks off the defeated Ghostfaces. Your breath caught in your throat as their faces were revealed.

The sad-masked Ghostface was none other than the guy you and Heeseung had encountered at the mall—the one who had been so strangely charming yet oddly unsettling.

But it was the second figure that sent shockwaves through your system. Kim Ji Woong, Taehyung’s little brother. You stared, wide-eyed, as the reality of the situation sank in.

“What?” you managed to say, disbelief threading through your voice.

They exchanged tense glances before sad-masked Ghostface stepped forward, a faint smirk crossing his lips. “Myung Jaehyun, pleasure to make an acquaintance,” he said, his tone laced with mockery. He turned to Heeseung, the smile fading. “Your dear stepbrother Heeseung,” he added.

You felt your heart drop as Heeseung’s eyes widened in shock. “Step… brother?” he echoed, the weight of the revelation crashing over him like a tidal wave. He gently pulled off his own mask, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

Jaehyun looked down, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “Mom… remarried,” he explained, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions.

Ji Woong, not willing to let the moment linger, huffed in frustration. “Yes, yes, such a nice brotherly reunion… yet you!” he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at Heeseung. “You killed my brother!”

Heeseung’s expression hardened, his voice devoid of warmth. “Your brother deserved it,” he stated flatly, and the tension in the room skyrocketed.

In an instant, Ji Woong lunged at Heeseung, rage fueling his movements. Heeseung retaliated, the two engaging in a brutal struggle.

“Hey!” Jake shouted, springing into action as he jumped to intercept Ji Woong. The chaos erupted once more, fists flying and bodies colliding. Jaehyun followed suit, rushing at Jake with an intensity that mirrored his companion's fury.

“Y/N! Run!” Jake called out, urgency lacing his voice.

You didn’t hesitate. The instinct to survive kicked in, and you sprinted past the tangled bodies, darting down the stairs and bursting through the door. The cool night air hit your face, but you didn’t stop. You ran, heart pounding, adrenaline fueling your escape as you fled the house.

The sounds of fighting echoed behind you as Jake and Heeseung fought off Ji Woong and Jaehyun. You didn't stop to look back, your body moving on pure instinct as you burst through the front door of the house, desperate to escape the chaos.

The cold night air hit you like a wave as you sprinted across the yard, your feet crunching on the dry leaves.

Behind you, you could hear faint shouts—distant, but still there. It was hard to tell if it was Heeseung or Jake calling out, or the others trying to chase after you. Either way, you kept running.

You stumbled over the uneven forest floor, your mind racing. How had it come to this? Jaehyun, Heeseung’s stepbrother? Ji Woong, Taehyung’s brother? None of it made sense. The weight of it all—of how intertwined everything was—made your head spin.

You stumbled onto the road, your legs shaky from exhaustion, past a gate that hung half-open along the overgrown driveway. The forest loomed around you, thick and oppressive, stretching for miles with no signs of civilization in sight.

Tiredness weighed heavily on your limbs, and before you knew it, you collapsed in the middle of the road. The cool asphalt felt comforting against your skin, but fear crept in as you lay there. Just as you were about to succumb to the darkness of fatigue, two headlights pierced the night, growing brighter as the vehicle approached.

You scrambled to your feet, waving your arms frantically. “Help!” you shouted, desperation clawing at your throat. The car came to a screeching halt, and the door swung open.

“Help me!” you cried, relief flooding your senses as you recognized the figure stepping out of the car. “Taehyun! Please, you gotta help me!” You rushed forward, grasping his hand tightly, your heart racing with hope.

But the words that left his mouth sent a chill racing down your spine.

“Oh, Y/N… if only there was someone that could help you now,” he said, his tone dripping with something sinister. Confusion washed over you, and before you could process anythingl, a sharp pain struck the side of your head.

Everything went black.

In an instant, the world faded away, leaving you engulfed in darkness. Your last conscious thought was of Heeseung and Jake.

Part 4 coming soon

Feel free to reblog and like <3

[swarvey]

paper rings | harvey x f!reader

Harvey remembers when he thought you were the love of his life; you don't seem to recall a time like that at all. After inheriting your grandfather's farm, you finally get to move back to Stardew Valley. Little do you know a certain doctor has patiently been waiting for your return.

a/n: the start of a harvey fic i posted on ao3, thought i would share!

ch. 1 | ch. 2

paper rings masterlist

-

chapter one: i bet you think about me -> “the love that you’re lookin’ for is the love that you had.”

Harvey hummed lightly to himself as he walked through Pierre's store, carefully eyeing the ingredients of each snack he put in his basket. Although he hated to admit it, he was finally beginning to feel his age; the walks that used to be so simple to him were starting to drag, and he found he needed a minimum of eight hours of sleep each night to wake up energized. He sighed lightly, longing for his college days when he easily walked across campus and would sometimes stay up all night studying for a final.

Still, as more and more time went on, his health was his top priority. His eyes lit up as he saw his favorite granola bars were back in stock.

"Harvey! I haven't seen you in a minute." Harvey turned to greet Caroline with a small smile. "You must be busy. With spring coming along, I'm sure all the kids will be heading over to your clinic with runny noses." She wasn't wrong. Whenever the weather got a bit warmer after the winter, Harvey was always greeted by the town's kids and teens, all reluctantly sent by their parents for a check-up. Most of the time, he simply sent them home with allergy medication.

"Of course, my favorite time of the year," he joked, shaking his head. "How have you been, Caroline? Have those vitamins I recommended you been doing you well?" He picked up a box of cereal from the shelf, pushing his glasses up and examining its label.

She shook her head in disbelief. "I couldn't believe it — I never knew those things could affect me so much! I've been feeling much more awake and energized thanks to you."

Harvey let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Ah, well, it's what I'm here for, isn't it?" He traded the cereal he had in hand with another one on the shelf, in awe at the amount of sugar in all of them. "You hear about anything new going on? I'm afraid I haven't been to the saloon in over a week now, so I haven't been very filled in."

Caroline pursed her lips as she thought. "Nothing too crazy going on in the Valley," she said after a moment. "Pierre's been preparing for the spring, Abigail's been practicing a ton with Sam and Seb, just the usual." Harvey nodded, humming in triumph as he finally found a box of cereal to his liking.

"Oh, and remember that girl who used to come by all the time? I heard her grandfather passed away, poor thing. He was a great man." What?  Harvey froze, smile dropping. "Now that I think about it, weren't the two of you good friends? She's taking over his farm this spring, you know."

Thud.

The box landed between the two as he remained silent, his face beginning to burn. 

"Harvey? Everything alright?"

"Sh-she is?" Harvey stuttered. When he realized how concerned Caroline looked, he cleared his throat, hastily grabbing the cereal off the floor and throwing it into his basket. "That's wonderful! I mean, not wonderful about her grandfather, but—" He shook his head. "I actually have something to tend to at the clinic, so I'll go check out now!" 

Pierre gave his wife a quizzical look as Harvey rushedly handed his items to him, ears turning a shade of bright red. Caroline shrugged, clueless as to what she had said to make the doctor so flustered. The two watched half-amused as he left the store with a quick "thank you," keeping his gaze on the floor. 

"He's always been a bit shy," Caroline reasoned. Pierre nodded, the couple returning to their tasks.

How? How was this happening? Harvey's thoughts raced as he made his way into his apartment, practically slamming the door shut as he sunk to the floor. Memories came rushing back to him as your name rang through his head, realizing it had been too long since the two of you had spoken. No wonder he didn't hear about your decision beforehand. Guilt began to eat at him as he thought of everything he had missed in your life, taking off his glasses to rub his face in stress. Would you even want to speak with him anymore?

Finally, after nearly half an hour of contemplation, Harvey scrambled up the courage to pick up his phone and give you a call. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as the dial tone rang, half of him hoping you wouldn't pick up. At least then he could avoid the situation a little longer, right?

"Hello? Harvey?"

Crap.

-

"Hello? Are you there?" you repeated, raising a brow. "Harvey, did you butt dial me?"

"No, no! I'm here," your friend replied, a slight panic in his voice. "Uh, well . . . how have you been?"

You let out a huff of laughter. "Some things never change, do they, Harvs?" His old nickname slipped off your tongue with ease. You remember when you were kids together, running around playing tag — back then, you would chase him and call him Harvsy. "You're still just as charming as ever," you tease.

There's a beat of silence before he replies with an awkward laugh. "You know me better than anyone." He pauses. "So, I heard you're moving to Stardew Valley?"

"Ah, right, I am! Sorry, I never got the chance to tell you," you sighed. "It's been a while since we last talked, huh?" 

"I suppose it has," he agreed, and you note the twinge of sadness in his tone. 

It's not like you wanted to stop talking to him, not at all, but with all the complications going on in your life, it was hard to keep in touch with your old friend. You always saw Harvey as a kid whenever you visited your grandfather's farm, as his grandparents also lived there. The two of you grew even closer throughout your pre-teen and teen years, always sharing music and studying together. You even saw him from time to time during college — although he went to a bigger, more prestigious medical university, you were both in Zuzu City and got food with each other from time to time. After you graduated and ended up working at Joja Cola HQ, though, you began to see Harvey less and less. Both of you tried to call regularly, you really did, but when your life began to look too black and white, you gave up on nearly all your social connections, focusing entirely on your work and making it through each day. It didn't help that he was busy running his clinic, too. 

Things didn't get much better when your grandfather died. He passed away towards the end of your college years, leaving you an envelope you promised not to open until you felt, "crushed by the burden of modern life." You had actually spoken to Harvey over the phone about your grandpa's words, though both of you were equally confused at what he meant.

That is, until working for Joja became too unbearable.

Only then did you open the letter, more miserable than you had been in your life. Despite it all, your grandfather had left you the greatest gift he could have in order to reignite your spirit: his farm.

"Well," you started, snapping out of your short daze, "I'll be in town in three days, so why don't we catch up then?"

More silence.

Was he always this quiet? Or have you two just grown apart?

"Harvey," you sang, "you still there?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Yes, of course, just give me a call when you're on your way, I can, uh, help you move in. If you need help, that is!" You laughed lightly; he was still the same dork you knew in the past.

"I would love some help, if you can spare the time," you said, smiling. "I'll see you soon, then?"

"Yes, I'll see you soon." You hung up, a smile lingering on your face. 

I wonder if he has a girlfriend, you wondered. He had never been the most outgoing, but surely he had to have met someone. You shrugged to yourself, continuing to pack some of your belongings into boxes.

Suddenly, going back to the Valley had become all the more exciting.

-

Harvey sank into his chair at the saloon, hand covering half his face as he began to question his life choices.

"Oh, come now, my friend," Elliott chided, taking a swig of his drink. "Where is your courage, your hope? You should be ecstatic that your love is returning to the town!" 

Shane grunted. "Yeah, right," he grumbled. "Odds are, she's already moved on."

Elliott frowned at him, but ignored him nonetheless. "Tell us what is on your mind, Harvey."

Harvey sighed. He had asked to sit between the two at the bar in hopes of gaining some clarity, but all he seemed to have achieved was embarrassment. While Elliott was overly enthusiastic about his "long lost love's return," Shane couldn't care less about the subject, bluntly stating his pessimistic thoughts. He felt as if there was an angel and a devil, literally, on either of his shoulders — Elliott was to his left, while Shane was to his right. 

"Shane may be right," Harvey admitted, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes. "What's the point of thinking about all this if she's already taken?" With that thought, he finished the remainder of his drink, trying to ignore the stinging in his chest.

The two men beside him were the only ones who knew about his feelings for you. Harvey confided in them from time to time, as they were closest to his age and they had known each other for quite some time. Although their personalities often clashed and seemed impossibly different, it was nice to talk to them. At least he and Elliott enjoyed it, anyway — Shane never outwardly showed his appreciation for them, except for the occasional half-smile at their jokes that they missed the majority of the time.

Elliott shook his head. "You mustn't give up before the battle has even begun," he stated, leaning closer to look Harvey in the eyes. "How long has it been since you first felt this way toward her?"

". . . Ah, you see," Harvey began quietly, his blush adding to the warmth of the alcohol he had drunk, "I've actually liked her for quite some time."

His friend hummed. "Since college, then?"

"A bit longer . . ."

"Oh, high school sweethearts? How romantic!" Shane rolled his eyes.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Actually, since we were about, let's see . . . ten? A little younger?"

Shane choked on his drink as Elliott's mouth fell open. 

"Fucking hell," Shane swore, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "That's like, what, two decades?"

Harvey wished he could cover his face with a blanket and disappear. "It started off as a crush, of course, we were kids," he feebly defended. "Then it just never really faded." He jumped when he felt Elliott strongly grab his shoulder, a new fire lighting his eyes. 

"This, my friend, is fate," he claimed confidently. "I am sure now that you two were meant to be."

"Elliott, please—"

"Not another word!" He rose from his seat, dropping coins on the table and giving Gus a thumbs up. "Gus, I'd like to pay these gentlemen's tabs tonight." The bartender grinned, returning the gesture. "Now, Harvey, I advise you go home and rest for your lover's arrival—"

"Not so loud!" Harvey begged, frantically checking if anyone had heard.

"—as you must look your utmost best for her," Elliott finished. 

Shane groaned. "Listen, thanks for paying for the drinks, pal, but I think we're done here. You're killin' him." With a quick nod to Harvey and a scowl at Elliott, Shane shrugged his jacket on and made his way out.

"I expect to hear all about your reunion, Dr. Harvey," Elliott said, putting on his own coat and placing a hand on his shoulder once again. "Best of luck! Let fate guide you." A few people glanced over at his theatrics, and Harvey truly questioned why he had chosen to confide in him in the first place.

As his friend left, Gus wandered over to him, brow raised. "What was that all about?" he asked.

Harvey shook his head. "It's a long story," he sighed, pushing his glass toward the bartender. He ignored the fact that he had gotten five refills above his usual limit; this was a dire situation.

Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was your smile. 

Miss me, Harvs?

He sighed.

"Another glass, please."

[babyshoesnerdshit]

night shift

CW cursing, child neglect, sexual harassment, misgendering, drunk person (although not very well written lol), general violence, slight infantilization

idk i wanted to try my hand at writing some shitty platonic yandere batfam x transmasc reader (its self indulgence bby)

Hunger pained (y/n)'s stomach. Stupid cheapskate convenience store didn't give employee discounts though so he had to wait until he got home to eat anything, if there was even anything to eat that wasn't spoiled. (y/n) would have just stolen something to eat from the store (he didn't give a shit about their profit) but the security camera mocking him in the corner kept him from it. And with his phone almost dead (y/n) had nothing to do but stair at the wall and listen to the shitty radio station the store played.

(y/n) hated the night shift, it almost guarantied he would have to deal with more crackheads and drunks than his coworkers. Regardless of his feelings about the night shift it paid the most (even though that was still barely minimum wage), and he really needed the money. Even though (y/n) still lived with his mother (and technically father but he was hardy ever around), his parents had stopped taking care of him a long time ago. So (y/n) was the one to take care of himself. Sometimes he had to take care of his mother too, reminding her to eat or sleep. The bells on the door jangled, shaking (y/n) from his train of thought. Ah yes, the other type of Gotham crazies. Vigilantes.

"Hey kid."

"I'm not a kid." for some reason the batclan had decided that the 5th avenue convenience store was the best place for mid-patrol snacks.

"Ah yes, the old and wise 18 year old. My bad." Red Hood had a thick layer of sarcasm in his mechanical voice. (y/n) couldn't see his face from behind his helmet but was entirely sure he had the stupidest smirk underneath. (y/n) simply rolled his eyes (fighting back a smile) as hood moved about the store grabbing a random assortment of food and drinks. As hood was filling his arms the bell sounded again, this time it was a middle-aged man. (y/n) could smell the alcohol on him from the register. The man looked around, stopping as he saw (y/n).

"Welll helllooo~" the man had started leaning on the counter of the register. "Yoou're a fine slut, i could show you a reeall goOod time~" He smelled even worse up close. (y/n) sent a panicked glance over to Red Hood who had dropped his things and was now walking aggressively towards the man. "Wha you ignorin me BITCH!" the man lifted his arm to strike. (y/n) flinched, lifting his arms to cover his face.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Hood's voice was dark and low. His grip on the man's arm was painful if the man's face was any indicator.

"H-hey Mr. Red Hood. me and the lil' lady were just havin a niice talk." The man had lost any confidences and aggression he once had in fount of the crime lord. "She wuz jus bein a bitch, you understaannd right?" he sniveled. A sickening crunch was heard from the mans arm where Red Hood's grip tightened. The man started convulsing with pain and screaming. (y/n) felt sick.

"I'm going to deal with this trash. I'll be right back." Hood dragged the man out of the store, bells jingling behind him. It was moments like this where (y/n) remembered just how dangerous Red Hood actually was. Living in Gotham, (y/n) had gotten unfortunately used to getting catcalled and harassed, but he could never stop the shaking of his hands and the sinking feeling in his stomach that came with it.

Moments later the bells sounded again, (y/n) couldn't help but jump slightly. It was Red Hood.

"Sorry about that kid." hood picked up the food he had dropped earlier and set it on the counter.

"Ah, it's ok." (y/n) hated how small he sounded. Taking a breath he started to scan the things hood had picked out and tried to steady himself. "It's Gotham, shit like that happens all the time."

"That doesn't make it ok." Hood sounded softer than before. (y/n) felt anger crawl up his throat, the bats always treated him like a kid. Even Robin! And he was, like, 12!

"That'll be $29.47, you want a bag?" (y/n) tried not to show his anger. As upset as he might have been, Hood did just save him from an icky situation.

"Nah." Hood picked up half of what he bought with one arm as he flipped a 50 onto the counter. "Keep the change." He started to leave.

"Hood, you're forgetting half your shit." He had left a large banana nut muffin, a pack of gummy sharks, a chocolate milk, and a packet of pizza flavored combos.

"They're for you kid, you look starving." He was out the door before (y/n) could protest.

(y/n) sighed with a light smile, well at least he wouldn't be hungry for the rest of his shift.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason was fucking livid. This god damn BASTARD! Who the fuck did he think he was, harassing his little brother. Raising his FILTHY had at him. Jason was seething.

"RR" Jason turned his comm on.

"Jonathan Davis, 54, 237 Maple Street, apartment 122, married to Eliza Davis, daughter is Maria Davis, place of work 57 West End Road." Tim already knew, he was watching it from the security camera back at the cave.

"I only spared him so that you could make his life something worse than death." Jason staired down at the beaten and bruised body of the man.

"Don't worry. It will be." Tim's voice was cold and calculated. No doubt already planning all the ways this man would watch his life fall apart.

Jason leaned down to the barely conscious man, "If you DARE go fucking near him again, I'll leave your head for your wife and daughter to find in your fridge." the man simply looked at him with fear. Jason grabs him by the scalp, "Do you understand?" his tone was dark, made even more intimidating by the mechanical modulator.

"Y-yes! I understand! I understand!" the man cried.

"Good." Jason shoved his head back into the filthy ground of the alleyway. 'right where trash belongs' Jason thought to himself.

[pretty-toru]

Hi! If you're taking requests rn, can I req for a gojo x fem or gn reader scenario where she does the break up prank on him but he surprisingly actually falls for it and the reader then makes up for it (sfw please)

break up prank┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: slight angst to comfort

୧ wc: 1.2k

୧ synopsis: you break up with gojo because he eats too much.

a/n: i don't support these kinds of relationship pranks :( but i tried making this lighthearted as possible so no hearts were broken in the making.

Satoru's enjoying his lunch across from you during break 一 if you can even call it that considering it's a bunch of sweets and snacks in their wrappers sprawled over the table. While he's filling you in on his morning accompanied by his first year students, cheek overstuffed with strawberry whipped cream sando, you sigh when he finishes his sentence.

"Gojo, we need to talk."

There’s a bitter taste on his tongue now, and Satoru looks at you with his brows furrowed when you call him by his family name which sounds foreign to him. You don't normally address him that way unless he seriously messed up, but everything was perfect and you both were getting along great so he's clueless. Maybe if he pretends by looking around for this Gojo to answer you back and nothing comes up the day can continue its usual pace. "Yeah, so, anyway as Megumi was getting hit on–"

You huff when your words fall on deaf ears, and you are a little more stern and a little louder this time. Your arms crossing over your chest because you don't appreciate being ignored. "Gojo, I just said we need to talk."

He wears a sullen pout but keeps his lighthearted tone. "Angel you're killing me here, you know that's not my name. You always call me Baby or Honey or Toru~" He mimics your cute voice and you bite the inside of your cheek from smiling affectionately, and because you don’t sound even close to anything like that. 

"Yeah, well not for long. We have to break up."

What? His face immediately drops and he seizes his antics. He can't believe you could say that so easily, and he doesn't even know if he heard you right. You are his entire world and he thought he was yours too. Just the other day you were telling him how happy he makes you and how lucky you were to have him, so what the hell happened? Where did he go wrong? He completely trusted that you'd never give up on him and you both were even planning for the future, so it's incredibly baffling to him when you say the most unexpected thing.

Break up...

Break up?

What do you mean by that?

"No chance, that's not happening. What makes you say that, hm?" Satoru has a way of bouncing back that tells you even though he feels hurt and betrayed, he won’t succumb to the voice in his head reminding him he doesn’t deserve you. Because he knows he does, and you deserve him too. "This sounds like crazy talk, that's what it is. I can't believe you would even suggest something like this. Am I even allowed to know the reason?"

You straighten yourself in your seat, and gesture over to the purchased goods to your right. "Well, for one thing–! You eat so many sweets!" When your words reach him, he caught onto your practical joke and relief washes over him. He can't take you seriously anymore especially when you make frowning look so adorable as the castella roll cake, his beloved kikufuku, and an entire souffle cheesecake gets chastised under your gaze. "I've never seen anyone eat their body weight in sweets, and I'm afraid the next morning I'll find my boyfriend has turned into liquified sugar or limbs made of mochi!"

Satoru bursts out into laughter from your ridiculous explanation of wanting to end things, the tension in the room dissipates and the heaviness in his heart follows making him feel infinitely lighter. He doesn't argue or deny his sweet tooth, just slowly nods and drags your seat that’s a short distance away towards him. His strawberry sando is forgotten and you are compliant when he gently pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his strong arms around you and pressing a kiss to the pulse point of your neck. You giggle because it tickles, and your arms loop around his nape with your fingers twirling the ends of his hair. 

"Fine, it's true. I've become a sugar fiend. But is that really something to break up over, sweetheart?" He’s slowly returning back to being playful again, but the way he’s holding you a little closer and tighter means he hasn’t fully recovered from the prank. 

"I mean, it's getting out of control. When we go out for ice cream, you won't share yours and keep taking bites out of mine. Huge ones that leave teeth marks too!" You’re teasing him now and all he can do is chuckle. This is the worst prank anyone has pulled on him, and he should be upset with the person that played it… But he just can’t be upset with you, he could never be upset at you. Just because you did something like that doesn’t mean he still doesn't love you.

"I share everything else with you, and I think I'm more than generous when it comes to spoiling my sweet girl~" Satoru leans in once more to plant quick trailing kisses on your neckline down to your collarbone for all the times he’s stolen a taste from you. When he pulls away slightly, his parted lips were already waiting for yours when you meet him for a tender exchange. Softly melding together with a taste of your tongue and your "I love you" is more than just words to him. It’s a feeling he knows is truly and genuinely still there despite you almost breaking his heart.  

"I hope you know I was just joking, right?" Your noses are touching and you speak in the most gentle tone. He was so sure it was some mischievous stunt, but hearing you confirm it gave him some comfort and ease of mind. "We aren’t breaking up just so we’re clear. I’m sorry for putting you through that, but it was nice knowing you’d want to keep me around. Is there something I can do to make it up to you?"

"Heh, you really messed with my feelings just now, you know that?" Satoru looks faintly distressed, but there’s a simper on his face when he glances down and smooth out the wrinkles on your skirt. "I really thought you didn’t want to be with me anymore. How about if you promise to never do it again… I’ll let you get away with it."

"I promise I won’t do it again." He watches as your hand cover his and you signal him to link your pinkies together. Even if there’s no need for timeless rituals anymore you both still like to engage in small gestures with the utmost seriousness to stay true to your word.

Satoru can’t help but release a breathy laugh. He looks at the sweet connection between your little fingers that brings a certain warmth to his heart like sunlight settling on his skin after a windy surge. His smile broadens as he looks back up at you. "Promise you won’t break my heart by ever leaving me?"

You hum contently and smooch his cheek as you recite the promise back to him. "I promise I won’t break your poor heart. Wouldn't even dream of it."

"I'm glad you are not going anywhere. Then I promise you the same thing~" He intertwines your hands together and brings it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. "I love you so much. Don't forget that Angel."

[lee-doesnt-knoww]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 - 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ - fem!reader, smut, kissing, thigh riding, nickname (angel), spit kink (?), jealousy

ᵃ/ⁿ - first ff ever so it might not be awesome, english is not my first language so if you see any mistakes, please tell me babes

Taehyun was the captain of the famous basket team at your school, but you and him both have hated each other since forever. Your parents have been friends ever since you were born and even before. You both argue over every single thing that happens, fighting for nothing and bikering 24/7. One day, his mom asks you to drop him his lunch at practice as she got called back into work for an emergency, as nice as you were, you couldn't say no to a woman who was basically your second mother.

As you came into the gymnasium, you saw him with some of his friends, some girls cheering and admiring their every move from the bleachers. He saw you coming in with a bag in hand, he walked over to you with an angry expression on his face, some girls spying him "What are you doing here?" "Your mom asked me to drop that to you" As you give him the bag, he searches inside and grabs a towel, also noticing his lunch and a drink. "Why did she need you? Couldn't she come herself?"

He asks with a hint of annoyance both from having to thank you and from the girls who are whispering loudly, not far. You roll your eyes as they talk about me being his possible girlfriend while giggling and whining about how jealous they would be if it were true. You sigh as you answer him, ignoring the fangirls. "I'll see you later, mom said you're coming for dinner"

You wave at him as you walk towards one of his teammates, greeting him with a smile and a small hug as you chat happily. As Taehyun sees this, his jaw drops slightly, only adding more to his confusion, he hears the girls talking between them, giggling not so silently.

"Wait isn't she his girlfriend??" "Maybe that's the one who's her boyfriend!"

He gets jealous at the view of you near him, not knowing why it bothers him so much to know you close with his friend. Seeing you laugh as you waved at him while walking to the gymnasium's exit, he calls you out while catching up with you. "Hey, wait!"

You turn around, letting out a small gasp as you collide with his chest making you take a step back as you tumble. He grabs you by the waist to stabilise you, his arm wraping around you. He asks with an angry and demanding tone. "How do you know him? Is he..?"

He shakes his head as he stops himself from ending his phrase, letting go of your waist as the girls observes them. You look up at him, head tilted and face full of confusion as you neat your shirt, wrinkled from his arm. As you hear the fangirls once again, you let out a groan and grab his hand, dragging him out of the gymnasium to a nearby foutain, the place only full of trees. Nobody to hear you talking.

"What was that about?" You cross you arms as you look at him with a frown, leaning on your hip. He stares at you, a mix of jealousy and annoyance on his face. "How do you know him?"

"Is that all you're angry about?? He's my classmate who helped me with the math I was struggling with!"

He looks even more pissed as he takes in your answer, he's about to say something but he's distracted by the sight of your lips, you bit them while you were dragging him away, making them more puffy and pink now. He was spacing out, only focusing on your lips as he grabbed your chin, making you look up as he examined your lips, his thumb playing with your bottom lip. You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. "T-Taehyun what are you doing..." Blushing as his hand goes to the back of your head, the other reaching for your cheek. He stares at you, loving the feeling of having you blushing for him, he gets lost in your eyes as he gets closer, his forehead resting against yours. "You make me crazy...I hope you know that, angel"

As you whispered his name, his lips close the distance and kiss yours. One of his hand playing with your hair as the other rubs over your chin, making you let out a small sigh as you kiss him back. He pulls you closer, his lips kissing yours over and over, letting out a soft grunt. Your legs trembling as his tongue pokes at your bottom lip, asking entrance to your mouth.

You moan in the kiss, grabbing at his shirt as on of his leg takes place between your thighs, the hand that was on your cheek now on your hip, pressing you to sit down on him. While you do, your hips stutter, heat spreading to your lower core. His hand starts to make you ride his thigh as you gently accept and follow his hand. As your hips start moving on their own, you let out sinful moans of his name in the kiss, only making him more turned on.

Suddenly a call of his name from afar brings you both back to reality. You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips together, making you blush as he wipes your lips with his thumb then licking it. As he takes his leg away, he holds your hips and neat up your skirt, brushing away any dirt or wrinkle. While he does so, you hold onto him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you stand on your tippy toes. Even if he's now done with your skirt, he hugs you, arms wrapped your waist as he whispers in your ear. "I'll see you at home later, yeah? I'll be over as soon as practice is over angel." He kisses your forehead as you both let go, waving as you part ways.

For some reason, you were happy that he was coming for dinner this time.

[lilyevanstan1325]

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 3

I look around trying not to lose my mind.

Behind me I can hear the quiet patter of a horse, its low whinnies are the only thing keeping me company.

They won't kill me.

Right?

Oh shit.

Ok ok, I have to stay calm, I can't lose my mind right now.

Breathe Summer, breathe.

Despite the darkness, interrupted by only a few rays of moonlight passing through the old wooden planks of the ceiling, if I concentrated I could try to understand how the hell to escape from this place.

Would it be such a bad idea after all?

I almost miss the woods full of biters.

I sigh shaking my head.

Bullshit.

I'm just panicking and this isn't going to help.

I'm safe now.

I'll be fine here and Daryl won't let anything happen to me.

Daryl.

Another big sigh leaves my lips.

I'll be honest, when he puts a gun to my head I felt betrayed.

It was an unexpected gesture but after the initial shock I think I can understand his motivations.

He doesn't know who I am and the people he cares about live here.

From what I understand and from what little I was able to see there are women here and perhaps even children.

It is more than normal to want to protect them from the new intruder, even if the new intruder is a girl on the edge of death.

A pang runs through my shoulders.

Damn Shane.

That's the name of the man with the crazy look who tied me up as if I were a serial killer.

Without even realizing it, I relive in my mind the meeting with these people on the top of the hill.

As soon as the three men reached us, the one with the shaved head was the first to start yelling at Daryl.

"Are you crazy?What the hell is going through your head?And who the hell is this kid?” he shouted, looking down at me and waving the gun in my direction.

I found myself staring into two black pools full of hate and…madness?

For the first time since I set foot out of that damned woods full of biters, I was truly scared.

I felt a drop of cold sweat run down my spine and with eyes wide open and full of panic I did the only thing I thought was safe at that moment.

I turned my head in the direction of the archer, looking for help, finding his blue eyes already fixed on me.

I know it was an irrational thought.

Asking for help from the man who points a gun at your head is certainly not a smart move but at that moment my every action was the result of my instinct.

I remember moving a little more towards him, sliding my knees on the hard ground scratching my knees, bringing me closer to the archer's legs.

The tip of my left shoulder grazed his knee.

Without hesitation Daryl moved from my side and positioned himself in front of me, interposing himself between me and that dickhead who, waiting for an answer, was looking at me as if he was ready to rip my heart out of my chest.

With bare hands.

Everything about him screamed danger.

There is definitely something wrong with him.

At that moment, however, I couldn't do anything other than look at Daryl.

From my perspective I could only see his boots but better than the eyes of that raging madman.

Now he was my only chance of salvation.

Daryl for his part seemed calm.

Relaxed.

Even too much.

Looking up I saw him take a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jeans and very calmly, as if at that moment we didn't have the end of the world on our heels ready to bite us in the ass, he took a cigarette, lit it and took a long, deep drag.

Spirals of white smoke dispersed freely into the sky.

For a moment he turned his head, glancing over his shoulder, right at my figure kneeling on the ground.

“I found her in the woods.I couldn't leave her"

A clear sentence.

Short and concise.

But also a big lie.

He could have left me to die, he didn't have to take me with him and jeopardize the safety of their safe place.

Another spiral of smoke rose above his head.

From my position I could hear the crackle of tobacco consumed by the flame.

Daryl's attention was totally focused on the man in uniform.

Another useful detail for me.

He's the leader here, I thought.

I remember observing his figure, half hidden by the man in front of me, for endless minutes.

I could hear the gears turning at lightning speed in his head as he pondered what to do with me.

After another deep exchange of glances between Daryl and the cop, the latter moved to the side, kneeling in front of me and bringing his eyes up to mine, studying me for a few more seconds, as if I were a fucking animal in the zoo.

I had some difficulty keeping myself from snorting and rolling my eyes.

All that was left was for him to throw peanuts at me.

The cop ran his hand over his face, rubbing his tired and exhausted features and then finally I heard his voice for the first time.

“I'm Rick Grimes.Who are you?"

“I'm Summer Davis” I stammered uncertainly, using my mother's last name as information.

I had already abandoned my father's surname a long time ago, no longer using it helped me overcome his betrayal.

I saw him nod just once as if he was satisfied with my answer.

"You are alone?Do you have people looking for you?”

Now to anyone this might seem like a simple question.

But not for me.

Not for me.

Was I alone?Yes.

Was someone looking for me? Probably.

Would I have told him?Hell no.

Looking at the men in front of me I knew immediately that I didn't care what they did with me in the end.

The only thing that mattered was that I would never allow their path to intertwine with that of him and his men.

After all, they seemed really good people.

Except for crazy eyes, he's definitely a disturbed son of a bitch.

So I did the thing that came most naturally to me.

Lie.

After all, I had been lying to him for months now.

I also became quite good at it.

I cleared my thirsty throat and I straightened my back.

The first rule for lying is to show confidence when speaking and look your interlocutor straight in the eyes.

“Yes, I'm alone, I don't have a group or a family.I was just trying to get to Atlanta”

Rick's blue eyes suddenly clouded with sadness.

I remember looking at him with curiosity.

Why that reaction?

“Atlanta is overrun.Nothing exists in that city anymore” Rick replied softly, responding to my questioning look.

“Oh…” was all I could mutter.

The memory flies from my mind.

Atlanta is overrun.

I cannot believe it.

I left Washington and arrived here with the illusion of being able to find something but instead?

In the end I almost lost my life to find myself tied to a pole in a stable.

I move my aching shoulders again and a hiss slips between my parted lips.

Why did Shane have to tighten the rope so much?

Where the hell did he think I would go?

After Rick's little interrogation I was left alone, but kept in sight by all four men, while they conversed among themselves.

About what?

Well I found out soon after.

Rick and Shane left without even looking back, the two were too busy arguing heatedly with each other.

And I'm sure that the topic of their heated discussion was me.

Great.

Antagonizing someone like Shane is never a good thing.

Glenn and Daryl instead escorted me into this stable, leaving me here and telling me to wait.

After a few moments Shane arrived with his damn rope.

Prick.

The stable door creaks open, taking me by surprise and tearing me away from my mental ruminations.

In front of it was a man watching me.

I try to understand who it is but then the timid sound of his voice takes away any doubts.

“Hey”

“Hi Gleen” I smile.

“I'm still here” I add with an ironic laugh.

Where the hell could I have gone anyway?

Slowly he approaches me.

His footsteps echo lightly around us.

I watch him carefully while in the dim light he sits on an old chair in front of me.

In his hand he holds a glass of water which he places near his feet.

“I'm sorry about that” he murmurs ashamedly in a low voice as if it were his fault, while with a wave of his hand he points to the rope that keeps my hands tied behind my back.

I shrug, feigning indifference, trying to hide the grimace of pain caused by my aching shoulders.

“Shane is an idiot.I tried to tell him it wasn't necessary but…you saw him…he can be a real hothead” he admits defeated, taking the baseball cap off his head and fiddling with it.

I smile at his sweetness.

Glenn is a really good guy.

“Don't mind” I try to reassure him.

His gaze wanders for a few seconds and then stops on me.

“I brought you some water and these” he says, taking what appear to be crackers from his pocket.

Food and water.

I think I could cry with gratitude.

I try to settle myself more comfortably even though the hard wooden floor beneath me is leaving indelible marks in my battered flesh.

I straighten my back grunting and cross my legs waiting to receive my dinner.

Glenn gets up from his chair with a little huff and after lighting a small oil lamp hanging right above my head he sits on the floor right in front of me, also with his legs crossed.

I blink several times trying to get my weak eyes used to the dim yellowish light.

The smell of the oil burning in the lamp fills my nostrils.

Glenn grabs the glass and brings it to my lips.

I drink enthusiastically without ever taking my eyes off the boy in front of me.

He seems really happy to be helping another human being.

After drinking half a glass I move my lips away, better to go slowly and avoid throwing up on the poor Glenn.

“Thank you” I whisper while the boy fiddles with the plastic of the cracker packet and after a few moments he brings one to my mouth.

I gladly accept and starting to chew slowly in ecstasy.

It's just a stupid cracker but...damn, it tastes like heaven.

"Are you crying?" he asks me hesitantly.

At first I don't understand what it means but then I realize that some big tears are slipping from my chin, wetting the once light fabric of my worn jeans.

“Sorry” I reply, accompanying my words and tears with a big hysterical laugh.

My reaction seems to scare the young man even more as he looks at me with his big dark eyes.

I shake my head and continue to smile, I smile so much that my cheeks hurt.

"Sorry.I assure you I haven't gone crazy but I haven't eaten in days.Can I have more?” I ask impatiently, looking at his hand which is still holding half a cracker.

Glenn seems to recover and giving me a wonderful smile he hands me the food.

Wrapped in a pleasant silence I eat my meal.

A meal that didn't last long but gave my hungry stomach some respite.

“You should be out there eating a hot meal with everyone else” Glenn murmurs dejectedly, looking at me sorrowfully.

“Nah” I reply with a smile after drinking the last drop of water.

“I'm not one of you”

My words seem to hit him and I see a flash of anger cross his naturally kind eyes.

“You are a human being.You are someone who seems to have been through a lot.You don't deserve this” his words are accompanied by his hands waving and pointing to the place around us.

I look around again, focusing my gaze on the open door of the stable.

From it I can glimpse the sky.

There isn't even a cloud and a blanket of shining stars covers it entirely.

I will never get used to the beauty of the starry sky.

Living my entire life in a city, the only opportunity I had to observe the stars was in the summer, when my parents and I went to spend the holidays at the seaside at my grandparents' house.

I remember that every night I spent whole hours lying on a blanket looking at the stars, drinking in their splendor.

I look back at Glenn and, gathering all the courage I have, I ask him the question that scares me the most.

“Glenn?”

The boy lifts his gaze from his hands to rest it on my face.

Gripped by anxiety I shift my gaze towards my boots unable to look at him.

Afraid of the response I might read on his face.

He certainly understood that there is something that disturbs me but he doesn't push me.

He waits patiently letting me take my time.

“Do you think…do you think they will kill me?”

"What?" he responds agitatedly choking on his own saliva.

“No, oh my God!No!Don't even think that”

“And why shouldn't I think that?” I quickly reply angrily.

“They tied me here, alone, in the dark”

I shudder.

The anger seems to evaporate instantly leaving only a lot of fear in me.

"I...I don't want to hurt you.Please, please Glenn convince them to let me go.I'll disappear.You will never see me again.I swear I won't tell anybody about you or this place.I just want to have a chance.I want to live”

I feel my chest tighten and my breathing becomes short.

I'm hyperventilating.

I feel the panic crawling in my stomach as it slowly rises, wrapping itself in my heart and clouding my mind.

I feel the walls closing around me, suffocating me.

Hot tears flow from my eyes.

“Please Glenn” I repeat letting my head fall forward.

Big sobs shake my chest.

I feel out of control.

So far I had managed to stay calm but interacting with this sweet good soul in front of me shattered my facade.

“Hey, hey Summer.Look at me!"

I feel his hands on my shoulders.

His strong and firm grip forces me to look up.

There is a strong determination in his eyes.

“No one will hurt you.Nobody.Rick would never allow it.I won't allow it” he smiles sweetly at me.

I feel my entire body shaking under his grip.

“You know, no one wants a bolt in his ass” he chuckles immediately afterwards.

The veiled allusion to the archer makes me blush for no reason.

The thought of Daryl being out there fighting to keep me alive makes my heart beat with an emotion other than fear.

Why would he do that?

Why expose himself so much for me?

I am nobody to these people.

And yet…and yet Daryl saved me in the woods first.

Glenn is here, kneeling in front of me, promising to help me.

Suddenly a loud commotion catches our attention causing our heads to snap towards the large stable door.

Outside I can clearly distinguish footsteps and frantic voices.

My body trembles without restraint now.

Even though the warm air of this summer night envelops us I feel a cold that grips my bones in a cruel grip.

Glenn's grip on my shoulders tightens, he looks worried too.

"It's madness.Madness!” a woman's voice shouts.

The footsteps are getting closer and closer.

"Wait!" another voice shouts.

This time I recognize who it belongs to.

Rick.

After a few moments some dark figures stand out against the entrance.

Here we are.

They came here for me.

Without thinking twice I curl into a ball pressing my body against Glenn's, burying my head in his chest.

His skin smells like laundry soap.

I can hear his heart beating furiously.

At first, perhaps due to the surprise at my gesture, his hands detach from my shoulders as if he had been burned but after a few moments, without any further hesitation, his arms tighten around my shoulders, engulfing me in his embrace, trying to give me the protection I seek.

I feel the muscles in my shoulders pulling and burning from the unnatural position I'm in but I don't care.

“What the hell is going on?”

It's the same woman speaking before but I'm afraid.

I can't move.

I don't have the strength to look, I don't want to see.

The agitated voices stop, in the air only the sound of my sobs suffocated by the cotton of Glenn's t-shirt.

“Summer?”

Daryl's voice makes me jump like someone just slapped me across the face.

His tone seems worried.

I don't have the courage to look at him.

I couldn't bear to see his eyes.

I couldn't bear to read his placid resignation for what is about to happen.

After endless moments of silence, some light footsteps approach me and a delicate hand like the wings of a butterfly rests on my head, making me tremble.

“It's okay honey.It's over”

That woman again.

I feel her hand move down my back, towards my tied hands.

I feel her fumbling with the rope, I feel a cold blade graze the tortured flesh of my wrists.

Another shiver shakes me violently.

“Don't worry” Glenn whispers without loosening the grip of his arms wrapped around my figure.

I trust him so I try to stay as still as possible.

“Carol”

“Shut up Shane!She's just a kid.You should be ashamed” the woman hisses in disgust.

Now the voice also has a name.

After a few moments my arms are free.

With aching muscles I move my arms forward and with my hands I cling even harder to Glenn, squeezing his shirt between my fingers and crying even harder.

I don't care that strangers are watching me, that they are judging me.

I do not care.

I'm tired and scared.

Carol's hands continue to caress my back as she softly whispers reassuring words in my ear.

Slowly, Glenn on my left and Carol on my right, support me, helping me to my feet.

I tighten my grip on the boy's t-shirt, burying my head further into his chest as he slides an arm around my waist.

Carol instead wraps her arm around my shoulders and the three of us walk towards the door.

Towards the public who witnessed and is witnessing my pathetic mental breakdown.

The few steps that separate me from the exit seem to expand, becoming miles in my head.

I feel like I'm walking my own personal green mile.

My walk of shame.

I feel tired, empty...as if panic has drained every crumb of who I am.

A few steps from the door Carol slows down until we are forced to stop.

“You should be ashamed.Everyone” she repeats.

“Especially you” she adds after a few seconds.

I risk a glance in the direction of her gaze.

And my eyes meet the archer's contrite ones.

I feel an uncontrollable blush color my cheeks, totally embarrassed I look down again.

Glenn tightens his grip on my body.

“Come on dear” Carol whispers in my ear again.

Now there is no longer any trace of anger in her voice but only an infinite sweetness.

We start walking again and as we finally get out into the open air I feel my heart getting lighter.

The grip that oppressed me until a few minutes ago seems to lighten with each step that takes me further and further away from that place.

"Where do we go?" I croak, sniffing at her and finally lifting my head from my refuge.

I straighten my back, popping several vertebrae.

I can finally give a face to that sweet voice.

Carol has short silvered hair and eyes as blue as the sea, full of sweetness and pain.

She reminds me a bit of my mother.

She smiles at me in a reassuring way, pointing with her hand to a point in front of us.

“Let's go somewhere safe and quiet, okay?Nothing will happen to you, I promise”

With my gaze I follow the direction of her hand and a few meters from us I see an RV.

I look at Glenn and he nods his head reassuringly, inviting me to continue.

Once we reach our destination, Glenn opens the door of the RV and Carol helps me up the steps.

“Now I'll help you get cleaned up.Glenn can you go get a real meal for our new guest?” Carol murmurs softly.

Glenn nods vigorously but before he can leave I quickly go down the steps I just climbed and standing on tiptoe I throw my arms around his neck.

Just like a little while ago in the stable, at first Glenn remains still and surprised by my gesture but then his arms tighten around my waist.

“Thanks Glenn.Thank you so much” I whisper with my cheek pressed against his.

“You have nothing to thank me for Summer”

I quickly break the hug and when we are eye to eye I meet his sweet smile.

Then he turns and digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans he walks away.

I watch him for another couple of seconds until my attention is drawn to a figure in the distance watching me intently.

Motionless in the dark of the night.

Daryl.

“Let's go” Carol whispers, drawing my attention and inviting me to enter the RV again.

Once back, Carol accompanies me to where there is a bed, then indicating it with a wave of her hand and another reassuring smile.

I sit down without saying a word as the woman walks away.

The bed under me is so soft that my brain does nothing but scream at me to lie down, to rest my tired and exhausted limbs but I can't.

I have to stay alert as long as possible.

I have to understand what's happening.

I have to understand what will happen to me.

I don't feel ready to let my guard down yet even if something tells me I can trust these people.

Or at least I can trust Carol.

And Glenn.

And then there would also be Daryl.

I think back to his eyes, in that stable.

I can't decipher his look.

The regret in his eyes, the way he whispered my name when he saw me trembling in Glenn's arms.

What does it mean?

My thoughts are interrupted by Carol's return, in her hands she has a basin full of water.

She sits next to me keeping a certain distance, I'm sure she does it to show me that she doesn't want to invade my space.

With slow and measured gestures she grabs a small towel and dips it in the water after which she begins to clean my face, my neck, my arms, being careful not to rub too much on the irritated skin of my wrists.

“I would like to apologize on behalf of everyone” she mutters after a while.

I look at her confused and remain silent.

She continues to clean me gently.

“You know, we've been through a lot lately, we've lost so many loved ones.We are all very stressed and suspicious”

Her voice cracks.

I am sure that among those people there is also someone very important to her.

And in fact her wet eyes immediately dispel all my doubts.

Carol clears her throat, I can tell from the tone of her voice that she is struggling to hold back tears.

“A few days ago, we encountered a horde of walkers”

Walkers?

Is that what these people call those fucking monsters human flesh eating?

“We hid but something went wrong…my daughter Sophia got scared, she ran away and we lost her.We've been looking for her ever since.This is why Daryl was in the woods when he found you”

The last words full of gratitude for the archer come out in a whisper.

“I'm sorry Carol.Really.I'm sure you'll find her again”

I try to smile reassuringly, placing my hand on hers.

I know my words mean nothing but how can I deny a little comfort to a broken hearted mother?

She smiles back at me, getting out of bed.

“I'll go get you some water” she whispers.

I'm sure she needs a minute alone to regain some composure, talking about her missing little girl must not have been easy for her.

I think about Daryl again and why he was in the woods.

Imagining him looking for that poor little girl confirms what I already thought.

Behind that tough mask there is a big and pure heart, the same heart that I saw in his eyes when he offered me that sip of water.

Before Carol can return there is a knock on the door of the RV.

Will definitely be Glenn with my meal.

I smile at the thought of seeing his friendly face again.

Carol opens the door, mutters something.

I see her nod her head at me.

After a few moments, a man I have never seen before enters.

He has a cloud of white hair and a kind look, he wears a pair of elegantly gray trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

I immediately notice a stethoscope around his neck.

He approaches cautiously, smiling at me reassuringly.

A noise behind him distracts me and I just need to look up to understand what it is or rather who it is.

Behind the kind man is Daryl, his gaze wanders everywhere except on me, next to him Carol smiles at me.

“Nice to meet you, I am Hersel, the owner of this farm”

Hersel speaks confidently catching my attention as he extends his hand towards me.

“You must be Summer”

I nod accepting his handshake, his skin is soft and warm.

Daryl clears his throat.

“I thought about calling Hersel 'cause he's a doc.I thought ya needed one” he mutters under his breath, scratching the back of his neck.

Carol looks at him curiously, raising an eyebrow.

My gaze returns to Daryl's eyes.

My heart does a somersault.

He seems almost embarrassed.

My confused look softens.

His gesture is so kind.

“Technically I'm a vet but I guess we should be satisfied with this nowadays” the man in front of me chuckles.

“I'd like to make sure you're okay, I know they found you unconscious” he smiles at me and when he does so his eyes smile too.

“Thanks but I'm fine now” I try to reassure him but the tremor in my hands and especially in my voice don't seem to convince him.

Behind him, Daryl shifts his weight from one foot to the other, biting the side of his thumb.

Our eyes meet again but this time I can't look away.

His eyes are like deep blue pools that draw me in like a magnet.

Thank goodness he's the first to look away, allowing me to turn my attention back to the sweet doctor in front of me.

Hersel smiles again.

“I would feel more comfortable if I could visit you, I would just like to check your blood pressure and your pulse.Then I promise I'll leave” he chuckles.

“Ok” I whisper in response, sketching a shy smile.

I don't feel like telling him no.

After all, he is welcoming me into his house and it costs me nothing to indulge him.

With another big smile he invites me to lift my shirt.

I'm about to do so but suddenly I remember the archer's presence and I stop embarrassed.

I don't even have time to look up before I see him turn his back on me.

Nice of him to turn around so as not to embarrass me.

After making sure that everything was ok, Hersel recommended me to eat and rest and that he would check me again in the morning.

“Thanks Hersel, thanks for everything”

“You're welcome, Summer” he replies, walking away and leaving me, Carol and Daryl in an awkward silence.

What happens?

Why is it suddenly hot here?

Why does Daryl look at the floor of the RV with such interest while Carol giggles?

I reflexively look down and focus on my hands clasped in my lap.

The silence continues, charging me with a strange anxiety.

I should speak, say something.

I lick my dry, chapped lips but when I open my mouth nothing comes out.

Just a strangled sound.

A sob shakes me and then another one.

Great.

I can't seem able to keep my damn emotions to myself tonight.

“I'm sorry” I murmur between sobs, burying my face in my hands so as to avoid the pitying looks that Carol and Daryl are surely giving me.

I hear some footsteps, then someone sit next to me.

The mattress sinks under the weight of the latter.

“Ya safe now”

His voice immediately stops my tears.

I honestly didn't believe that he would actually come close to console me.

God, he'll think I'm pathetic.

Crying in Glenn or Carol's presence had definitely been easier and less embarrassing.

We both remain silent.

I can't even think of what I could say to him.

After a few minutes Daryl gets up and walks away.

His gesture makes me snap up.

Is he leaving?

But after a few moments I see him return with a steaming plate in his hands.

“Eat”

His is almost an order.

Without hesitation I obey by grabbing the plate he is handing me and he sits down next to me again, this time a little closer.

I grab what looks like a piece of meat between my fingers, hold it to my nose to smell it before taking a bite.

As soon as the meat comes into contact with my taste buds, an embarrassing moan escapes my control.

It's absolutely delicious.

I don't know if it's because I was literally starving but this meat is the best thing I've ever eaten.

Forgetting about the man next to me, and about my good manners, I begin to eat with more ardor, bringing larger and larger pieces of meat to my mouth.

Daryl doesn't say a word the entire time but I can clearly feel his eyes probing my face continuously.

“Mmmh” I murmur at the end of my hearty meal after licking my fingers.

I feel calmer now, more relaxed.

This meal gave me time to reflect and calm down.

So with a big smile on my face I turn to Daryl.

For a moment I remain silent.

I was smiling and he was serious, his lips were a hard, serious line.

"Thank you.It was truly delightful” I thank him trying to convey all my gratitude into my words.

In response I get a grunt and a shrug.

I look back at my now empty plate and find myself once again surrounded by silence.

The smile on my lips is now the shadow of a memory.

Daryl jumps up making me jump.

What?

What happen?

I watch him as he nervously runs along the entire length of the RV a couple of times.

What have I done?

He seems to be upset because of me.

Did I say something I shouldn't?

I get up from the bed taking a couple of steps in his direction but suddenly the archer stops his walk and turns towards me.

I think he didn't expect to find me so close because he takes a sudden step back, hitting his hip on the corner of the small table to his right.

Another grunt, accompanied by a puff of air coming out of his nostrils.

“Daryl…”

“’M sorry” he suddenly grunts, making the words die in my throat.

I frown in confusion at his apology.

Why is he apologizing?

His eyes look in any direction except mine.

“Daryl?” I call him and his eyes focus on his boots.

I wait patiently for him to decide to look at me but when this doesn't happen I take another step in his direction and when I notice that he doesn't step back I take another step.

Now only a few inches separate us.

From here I can smell his skin.

Daryl smells like the woods, he smells like the woods where we met.

It is a strong, pungent but pleasant smell.

He smells like wood, musk and smoke.

An intoxicating smell that enters my head.

Very carefully I lift my arm and then place my hand on his bicep, squeezing it delicately.

As soon as my hand comes into contact with his warm skin a discharge seems to pass through my skin, my muscles, my bones.

Straight into my soul.

It's like I've been hit with a teaser.

Pure electricity.

His eyes dart first onto his arm where my hand is and then into my eyes.

And the emotion I read in it destabilizes me.

Panic.

This big, thick, muscular man with a menacing look is totally panicking just because I'm touching him.

His eyes are wide open.

I don't want to make him uncomfortable so I remove my hand from his body and take a step back.

“Why are you apologizing?” I ask in a small voice still shocked by the sensation I just felt.

Sensation that I can't explain and to which I don't even want to give a name.

His eyes are still fixed on me, a few locks shadowing them.

I have to use all my willpower not to bring my fingers to his face and move those locks away.

I dig my nails into my palms, the pain caused helps me concentrate.

When I think he won't answer me anymore I take another step back and turn my back on him and go back to sitting on the bed.

I rest my back against the wall of the RV, stretching my legs out in front of me, trying to relax my sore muscles.

The silence around me makes me understand that he left me alone.

Fantastic.

I close my eyes trying to understand what happened.

“I shouldn't have let Rick and Shane treat ya like that”

Jesus.

I jump, putting a hand to my chest to try to contain the pounding of my heart.

“Damn” I mutter through gritted teeth, my eyes wide with panic.

Daryl lifts one corner of his lips in what looks like the ghost of a smile although in the dim light of the RV it could also look like a grimace.

“'M sorry.I didn't mean to scare ya" Daryl apologizes, biting his lower lip slightly.

I shake my head as if telling him not to worry.

I cross my arms over my chest, softening my gaze at the image of a man so strong, with a dominant aura, so absolutely incapable of managing his own feelings.

“That's ok.It's not your fault.You…you have already done so much for me Daryl that a whole lifetime wouldn't be enough to thank you” I stammer.

His gaze wanders nervously from one point of the RV to another.

Ok.

Daryl isn't even comfortable with compliments.

I leave the bed again followed by the protest of my aching muscles and cautiously I approach him again but this time I remain at a safe distance.

I don't want to invade his personal space but I need to make him understand how grateful I am to him.

“If it wasn't for you I'd be walker food right now”

Daryl snorts in response.

“Yeah…sure” he grumbles without saying anything else.

I roll my eyes even though he can't see me.

This man can be truly unnerving.

His vocabulary is limited to snorts and grunts, what the hell!

In exasperation I watch him as he crosses his arms over his chest, his firm, toned muscles contracting elegantly, his tanned skin glistening under the moonlight streaming in through the windows.

In the silence peppered by our breaths I surrender to the thought that perhaps I will never be able to understand this man.

I'm too tired and anything he does or says only adds to my frustration so I do the only thing I think is wise at the moment.

I head towards the RV exit.

“Night Daryl” I murmur passing by him avoiding any visual or physical contact.

As soon as I find myself outside, I breathe deeply, raising my face towards the sky.

Above my head millions of beautiful stars shine set in a dark velvet blanket while the smell of grass tickles my nose.

Within a few moments I regain a bit of serenity...serenity which is interrupted after a few seconds by the door of the RV being slammed forcefully.

Daryl makes no sign of leaving, remaining behind me.

I slowly turn around determined to face him.

His eyes seem full of anger.

It's my fault?

Is all that anger for me?

Maybe my presence is causing trouble to him with his group.

With Shane.

“What's wrong with you?” I snort without being able to contain myself.

His mood swings make me dizzy.

First he seems worried about me.

He brings me food, calls a doctor and then…then he treats me like I'm a disease.

Like I'm one of those fucking biters.

I feel like I've reached the limit of my kindness for today.

Now that's enough.

I had a gun pointed in my face.

A crossbow.

I let myself be dragged.

Interrogated.

Tied up.

I let myself be treated like a criminal even though I didn't do anything.

Nothing.

The banks are breaking and the words are starting to flow like a raging river giving vent to all my frustration.

“Why do I get the impression that you're regretting having brought me to safety from that damned woods?Well know that if it bothers you it's not my problem, I wasn't the one who asked you!You could have just let me die and come back here to mind your own business on this nice farm safe from the walkers with your stupid water and your stupid food” I spit the words out angrily.

I feel the blood boiling in my veins.

Something in my words seems to set off an alarm in the archer's head.

He storms down the steps of the RV, getting dangerously close, his every step sounding like an imminent threat.

His massive body towers over me as his cruel gaze pins my feet to the ground.

He remains to observe me with a menacing expression for a few moments, his dilated nostrils quivering with anger.

If a look could kill right now I'd be six feet under.

“Is this what ya think?” he hisses.

His posture is rigid, his arms at his sides with fists clenched.

White knuckles seem to want to pop out of his skin.

Honestly?

Yes that's what I think.

I have the impression that once the adrenaline of the moment has passed he is realizing that perhaps it would have been better to let me die.

This thought hurts me.

And I don't understand why...

After all, who am I?

And in the end he could be right because even if I personally am not a danger, the people who are looking for me are.

My life is certainly not worth more than those of these people.

I would just like a moment's respite.

Nothing more.

“That's what I see” I murmur dejectedly.

My eyes fill with tears and I don't even try to hide them this time.

My heartbeat is deafening in my ears.

Daryl looks at me with even more disgust, clenching his fists even tighter as if he's holding himself back from hitting me.

Would he really be able to do that?

This Daryl scares me.

The archer takes a further step towards me invading my personal space.

“If ya looking for consolation sunshine ya have chosen the wrong man.Go cry to Glenn, it doesn't work with me” he taunts me viciously and then walks away without even sparing me a glance.

I turn to watch him as he walks away, stomping his boots angrily on the grass.

I'm totally shocked.

What the hell just happened?

He's the one who was acting strange to me.

He started.

I was kind, I tried to reason with him, I respected his space.

What did he give me in return?

Only silences.

Threats.

What the hell was I supposed to do?

I put my hands on my hips, huffing loudly.

My eyes are still on him as he walks away and enters a tent not far from the RV.

“Don't worry, you'll get used to him.He may seem grumpy but deep down he's a good guy”

I jump with fear.

God!

Tonight everyone is having fun testing the resistance of my heart.

Another scare like this and I don't know if I'll see the dawn rise tomorrow.

I spin around looking for the person who spoke but strangely I don't see anyone.

“Hey!I'm here”

The man chuckles and following the sound of his voice I look up.

On the roof of the RV there is a man, sitting in an old chair with a rifle in his lap.

He wears a bucket hat and has an unkempt beard.

How long has he been up there?

How much did he hear?

I look at him for a couple of seconds in total embarrassment.

Nothing happened between me and Daryl but the fact that this man may have misunderstood our attitude makes me blush to the tips of my hair.

Thank goodness it's dark and I don't think he can notice it from up there.

“Anyway, I'm Dale.If you're looking for Carol, she went that way” and with his finger he points to a small bonfire a few meters from me where Carol and other women are chatting.

“Thank you” I murmur under my breath, glancing one last time at Daryl's tent and then walking briskly towards Carol.

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Taglist

🔥 Masterlist 🔥

@deansapplepie

[crushculture03]

Valley Girl and Sammy

Masterlist

"Bobby Singer? How did i not pick up on this sooner, you said your last name was singer, but I must've not heard you fully" he said.

"Sam, why do you know my father?" she asks, the realization not yet hitting her. "Because Val, my father and your father were best friends" he says, "Wait what's your last name again?'

"Winchester"

And just like the wall that blocked all her memories from childhood and her teenage years, came crumbling down, "Wait your father was John, yes?" she clarifies, Sam nods 'yes'. "Oh my god it's really you, you're my Sammy '' she says, her heart beating faster as a few memories from that fateful summer flash in her mind.

"And you're my Valley girl" he whispers, smiling at the funny nicknames they made for eachother. "How did I not realize it sooner?" she says, "Well to be fair I look different, and if you're like me you blocked all those teenage years because of the trauma we've been through" sam says, "Yeah that's-that's exactly it" she agrees, "Oh my God Sam its you its really you" she smiles and hugs the tall boy, "Happy to be at your service again Valley girl" he whispers.

"Hate to break off the love fest but I need to talk to you Sammy" A deep voice says, the two pull apart and look to find the source of the voice.

"Dean? What are you doing here?" Sam asks, confused on why his older brother was standing in front of him. "Well that's not a very nice welcome now is it Sam? '' he jokes as he walks up to his baby brother and hugs him. "Oh and if it isn't little Val Singer, what are you doing here with him" Dean teases. "You remember me?" she asks, shocked "Of course I do, how could I forget the girl my brother wouldn't shut up about for years" he says, causing Sam to blush.

"Well it's because Sam and I didn't even remember each other till a few seconds ago, guess we blocked out so much that it got lost" she says. "Well that's a shock because that summer was crazy for you two, but back to what I came here for" Dean says and looks at his brother.

Both Sam and Valerie hope they can find out what exactly Dean means by saying "that summer was crazy for you guys".

"Sam dads on a hunting trip and hasn't been back in a few days'', Sam's face drops at the news. "I need your help finding him" the older Winchester asks, "And I guess since your Father knows my father better than anyone, that you can come too pretty girl" dean says and winks a Val, causing her to shift uncomfortably and stand behind Sam.

"Dean I left that life for a reason I'm not going back" Sam says, "Come on Sam he's our father", Sam scoffs "More like he was our drill sergeant , he told me to never come back when I told him I got into Stanford". "Ah come on you know he didn't mean that" Dean says, "Dean, No I have a life here ok? I don't need yours and dads troubles dragging me back in" he snaps and sighs.

"Sam" she whispers, he turns to her and his face instantly softens. "Maybe you should go, I mean don't get me wrong I hate your father as much as you do, at least from what I can remember, but I know if you don't go you'll regret it" she tries to reason with him. "I-I don't know Val" he whispers, she grabs his hand to reassure him, "I'll go with you if you want?" she suggested. "I can't ask you to do that" he says, "Sam look I want to remember everything that happened between us, I just got you back i'm not losing you again, plus I've been meaning to see my father so it's a win-win, we can go to my dads and he can help us" she says, looking at Sam before glancing at Dean. "Fine, but once we find him we come back ok?" he insists, "Ok" she smiles.

"Wonderful now if you guys could stop flirting and start packing that'd be great" Dean interjects. "Shut it Dean" she snaps, causing Sam to chuckle softly , "There's the Singer charm, now hurry up we got a case to solve princess" he teases, she flips him off before her and Sam walk into the complex and go to their respective apartments to pack everything they would need.

After a few minutes the two re-emerge, "Wow took you guys long enough" Dean groans, "Oh shush or the car gets it Dean-o" she teases, from what she can remember Dean absolutely loved this car. "Nobody touches my baby!" he snaps, his face completely serious as he gets into the driver's seat and slams the door shut. "Ignore him, he has a weird thing for the car, '' Sam says as he places his bags and Val's bags in the trunk. "It's fun to mess with him" she chuckles, "Keep doing it, it's fun to watch, plus he knows if he does anything to you Bobby will kill him" Sam says, she chuckles "You're right on that one.

"This is definitely a weird time to say this but even out of that costume you still look like an angel" Sam remarks, causing Val to blush, while she and Sam were packing they had both changed into more comfortable clothes, compared to their cheesy halloween costumes. "Thanks Sam, you look nice too" she smiles, before walking to get into the back seat of the Impala.

Sam quickly closes the trunk and makes his way to the front seat, "Buckle up Buttercups because it's going to be a long ride, and here's what I have so far on dads disappearance, it's not much so I thought we'd take a pit stop and visit our old pal, and Princess's father, in South Dakota'' Dean says, a classic smirk painting his face. "Call me that one more time and I'll put Nair in your hair gel" she says, causing Dean's grin to drop and Sam to laugh slightly. "Shut up" he mumbles before starting the car and peeling out of the parking lot. And just like that the trio was on their way to Sioux Falls South Dakota.

[swampstew]

Wanna know who binged What's The Magic Word last night and then read tonight's chapters with a smile on my face? THIS GAL!!!!😁😁😁

The whole thing with the Raven calling out Kid for being a lover boy had me in stitches, and the little Kim Possible easter egg was a cute touch. XD I was listening to videos of ravens mimicking human words earlier today, and it never fails to amaze me just how clever they are.

So happy you included Three-Eyed Killer too! It's one of my favorite headcanons and the fact that Kid gets way more upset about Killer being perceived as a freak than Killer does is very in-character. Rowena's right about all three of his eyes being beautiful!😭😭 If only someone could have told him that much sooner. Still baffles me how in the One Piece world where people can look like literally anything, someone with three eyes is considered freaky. 🙄

And the fight scene wedding! THE WATER SPINOSAURUS!!! THE PROPOSAL!!! THE VOWS!!! THE HELLHOUNDS DRAGGING PEOPLE OFF TO THE UNDERWORLD!!! IT WAS BRUTALLY ROMANTIC AND ROMANTICALLY BRUTAL!!!! YOU'RE SUCH A GOOD WRITER, BEB!!!!

IM GUSHING! SOBBING! THROWING UP! IM SO FUCKING HAPPY RN I WANNA VOMIT RAINBOWS AND SKULLS AND KUROMI STICKERS!!!!!!!!!

it fills my lil heart with joy that you've enjoyed the fic especially these recent chapter drops :D i never thought i'd be here posting such intimate fantasies i created for myself and my comfort character and it brings me all the good brain feels when y'all come into my comments and ask box that you've even read past chapter 1! Your praise and enthusiasm makes me excited to drop more in the future ~ not just for OC fics but stories in general♡

Some fic talk below the cut so avert yee eyes if you don't want to be spoilt ~~~

I had to sit down and bury my face into my gengar plush from how hard i was cheesing. my cheeks hurt and its all your fault!

NGL the Raven was actually me self inserting <in my self insert story> shenanigans for the gag ~ I love bullying the big dope! It is CRAZY how Ravens and other birds can talk - that's one of the reasons i both respect and lowkey fear birds. They're SO smart. I wanna befriend one. But im sure it could lure me into a pyramid scheme.

Thank you! I've read the head canon on Tumblr a few times but can't pin the source. I think it's a theory with merit! I try to do slightly different traits/characteristics of canon characters across fics so that each fic has it's own canon of the Kid Pirates. In What's the Magic Word? - Killer is a hybrid three-eye tribe member. In other fics - he's just as precious and special but in other ways.

ALSO THE DISCRIMINATION! INSANE! In this house we loathe Big Mom (she's an AMAZING character and I want to study her in a lab 60 floors under ground) but i HATE HER ASS. straight up abused tf outta her kids for being the variety snack pack kingdom she WANTED.

For Chapter 29 - I'll just leave it at TYSFMISSGDHRNIHH (thank you so fucking much im sobbing so god damn hard right now i have hiccups). As much as I romanticize the fuck out of Eustass Kid, I wanted to make sure his wedding day fit his brand of chaotic♥

I'll make a better quality post of the cover art in a few days after the chapters sink in a little! All my love for this crazy pirate culminated to this moment♥

[linaket]

Monthly Writing Update (February)

A slow January led to... a crazy quick February. I can't even believe its over, and I definitely dragged in my writing this month. Honestly, even sitting here all I have is a vague sense of what even happened this month.

I was promoted at work right at the beginning of the month, and spent a lot of time stressing over the drama and dynamics around that change this month. It even changed my shift schedule. I was working four days a week, ten hour shifts, and able to set aside an entire day for writing a week. My new position doesn't allow for that schedule, but while this is the first week in about two years that I'm back to working 5 days a week (and... six in a row on the first week) I spent most of my days off this month once again getting the house in order, and just being a general nervous mess about things...

Books Read

Untethered Sky by Fonda Lee

Jade City and Jade War by Fonda Lee (guess it was a Fonda kinda month?)

Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White

Four books at least meets the minimum of my (kinda unofficial) reading goal, even though I was pretty lucky this was a leap month because I only just finished Jade War today.

While I'm quite enjoying the Green Bone Saga, I've found something about it doesn't connect with me on a personal level, as a reader. Perhaps it is the POV that it is written in, but I am not getting the emotional connection that I often crave with books that truly sit with me. I'm absolutely going to finish it, and recommend it for anyone who wants to write epic fantasy. But I do think every book can teach a writer something new, and what I've been learning from this one is that I want to be more aware of the emotional stakes of my characters, and making that aspect more active in the narrative.

That being said, Untethered Sky? knocked it out of the park. Likely due in part to it being a novella, so everything was far more condensed. But 12/10 either way.

Writing Accomplishments

Honestly I am fighting the failure feeling just trying to type up this paragraph... basically, I tried to work on the extra for Shadow's Prey but ended up dropping it. I will likely still be aiming to release the ebook, but it will probably just be a very quiet release. It's mostly done and edited, but I don't think I'll be able to include an extra like originally intended. I started working on something, and MT kept singing its siren song and distracting me.

Also, I got art of the boys now! I'm excited to share it, and make some fun things for them.

That said, I did at least manage to finish something...

Favorite Excerpt

Valor told himself that it was better, that Ruse’s consistent prattling and teasing was an irritating distraction. But he couldn’t stop looking over at him. Though Ruse squinted against the brightness of the sun, the gaudy sunglasses hung on the collar of his shirt, stretching the already worn fabric. The bruises on his neck from the confrontation in Petra had faded over the last few days, gone from deep purple to a mottled yellow along the pale column of his throat. It was better that Ruse had gotten quiet. Better that he kept his gaze away, that he wouldn’t look at Valor. Every minute, every moment that Ruse didn’t look at him, didn’t focus his depthless attention on Valor, didn’t say anything, didn’t make a sound, was better because it meant that Valor didn’t have to think about what his hair would feel like between his fingers, what his throat would taste like under his lips. He could ignore the fact that he wanted to drown in Ruse, press his mouth against him and never come up for air. Valor tightened his grip on the steering wheel and went over the plan. Take Ruse into the Graves, retrieve the part for Jarl Nero’s scryer, and trade for information on the location of Noble Marek.  Then he’d find his father, and he’d kill his father. 

On Loop

Abe Parker - it is what it is

You're walking on the water that I'm drowning in Thought I heard a whisper, was it just the wind again Or the trail of blood I'm following? And if I'm the one to blame I guess all that I could say It is, it is, it is what it is All the things I couldn't change I lay with someone else's sins Let my soul just fly away All the way up to Heaven's light I pound those gates with no reply

Final Thoughts

I wish I had done more, and I also wish I could stop being hard on myself about this. It's no good. I am not nearly as hard on myself for not doing what I thought I should as I used to, but that's something really hard to shake, even if it doesn't help anything.

That said, it was a bit of a tough and strange month for me. I felt like I was dragging myself through each day, even dragging myself through reading. And while I did manage to at least finish some writing, I simply did not have the energy for anything more.

Hoping that I get used to this new schedule quickly. My work days feel much shorter now, since I'm used to the longer ones, and I've had more energy after. Also the position I took, while it was a promotion, is less stressful than the one I've been working. At least, so far. We'll see how the month shapes up. I am always far more productive, writing and other things wise, when I'm not carrying the work stress around, so. I'm hoping for the best here.

March Goals

Read 4 books again, and I've got a pretty good idea of what they'll be and excited about it, so at least I won't get struck by some kind of decision paralysis with that.

Release Shadow's Prey: Act 1 ebook! Yeah, it's still on goal for next month, despite that I wish I had it completely ready now. Really, its just final touches and me figuring out some of the technical details that need to be done. And like I said before, it'll probably be a very quiet release. I'll probably make a few posts about it after its up, but mostly its just to get it out there. I'm not really promoting the heck out of this one because, well... it's already tested with audiences. Probably the wrong audience, but it has been tested and it was difficult to get interest/attention, which is a fault of mine. I am NOT GREAT at marketing. And while I'm very happy with and proud of it, I know the work I'll have to do to really draw an audience to it. Especially considering the... not good at marketing thing. I have been researching and keeping an eye out for ideas and being practical about what it takes and what to do, but the task itself takes a lot of energy from me and I simply can't do that in time for a release. But I'm tired of simply sitting on all these books and doing nothing with them.

For Mortal Teeth, I need to finish the next arc. It's actually only two more chapters. This is a bit of a low goal, but I want to make sure I set something that I know I can do without feeling awful. Especially since these were supposed to be done last month.

Maybe a stretch goal of releasing character intros/aesthetics for the MT boys?

[captainaikus]

that's a relief! the fact that you remember your anons makes me feel very warm and fuzzy 😭 happy that you think of me when you listen to chase atlantic 🫶 speaking of kaiser... that man was a literal menace during the previous bllk chapters omg i fucking hate him (holy shit i think i fell for him deeper 😞 my taste in personified red flags is extremely questionable) nonetheless, i'm looking forward to your next works!

really glad you've been faring well and your ao3 move is doing good. i get your point and i agree w/ it. tumblr's system is shit. some authors get like 700+ likes from posting a twt p0rn link?? i have nothing against them, if that's what some people prefer then so be it. but seeing the small authors who pump out actual high-quality content and not getting enough appreciation for it is saddening. in the first place i downloaded tumblr solely for the purpose of reading fanfics and poetry-related stuff. now all i see are twt p0rn links flooding my feed and that never ever fails to tick me off (come on man i just want to read some fics with good plots 😞). the main reason i haven't deleted this app yet is because of some authors i follow (including you), who actually work their asses off for their readers. that's something i highly appreciate. i'll admit—ao3 is better when it comes to giving smaller authors justice. at least you won't have pussyass anons coming after you in the most passive-aggressive way possible for no reason :D

i wish you the best of luck! ❤️

– 🌷

Apologies for responding to this late; I really like uncomfortable by chase atlantic and heaven and back is giving me some ideas... gonna start working on that when i'm done with this wip - Honey. I love like Aiku, he is literally the biggest red flag you can find in bllk (smh Idek why I fell for him - literally saw him and said yes.) I love him sm After reading his panels and guessing everything right about him, we're soulamtes my soulmate is actually Sae though... but we don't walk about that I'm waiting for the next chapter to drop so that i can see the loml 😭 Rant ahead so feel free to skip - Exactly the point. Like here's the thing about the author community on tumblr. I've usually stuck to my own blog cause of it - when you get buddy with some authors; it comes with its own set of problems cause when they get dragged into some kind of a discourse, everyone they've spoken to get dragged into it as well, even readers come up with some really crazy theories regarding content, similarities etc etc. It's one of the reasons that i'm not a very author to author interactive blog with just dropping in here and there. Not to mention that authors tend to stick to their own online circle and getting into one isn't as easy as it looks? They will judge you by the amount you have reblogged which shouldn't be the case tbh. And i don't reblog other author's works since i stopped reading things 2 years ago here and ever since I started writing ff i only checked the tags for seeing if my work turned up or not. Rather than preferring an author and author relationship, i prefer having one with my readers since they are the ones to hype my works up and send me good feedback. I feel really bad for small time authors on this platform cause authors who have dominated one fandom, entirely; are getting into smaller fandoms - and with their huge followings, they tend to take most of the space and fame compared to small time authors who have some really good quality content. Like was taking one or even two fandom/s not enough? But then its always the same story of "what's wrong with being a multi-fandom blog?" or "We're creating free/ quality content so what's the problem?" The discourse and the toxicity here is actually never ending, it's something that I've been noticing for four years now... and it was high time that i moved to ao3 cause here both authors and readers are toxic, cause authors are trying to keep readers down sometimes and readers... some of the them report your work even if it takes hours to create it. Not to mention that it even escalates to getting death threats which is another level of extremism cause of the lack of sensitivity that there's an actual breathing live person on the other side of the screen. Coming to the links that people attach to their posts and decide to post them, half the time I just think about the 15k notes from giving a visual from twitter that's not even their own content to begin with. Like yes, there are people who like erotica on the internet but in fandoms, its more of the literary work compared to a visual unless its drawn. and it makes me think how easy it was to make that and here you have some of us just... slogging it out or working hard on every line since it's more handmade compared to this. and what's weird is that authors seem to not pick up that queue and continue doing it. My opinion might seem harsh but it is what it is.

[lightlycareless]

Chapter 37 - first page.

As promised!!! Here are more spoilers, a.k.a the first page of the next chapter. Super excited for what's to come, also... a bit frustrated cause it's hard to write Naoya not being an a-hole, yet not too ooc... welp, that's a challenge I'll have to take on when the time is right!!!

Anyways, enjoy!!!

“I thought we had an agreement.”

It was almost comical the way you were quickly intercepted, just seconds short of you serving yourself a glass of water in the kitchen. One you intended to help you… well, process Naoya’s demonstration of vulnerability and all that happened in between.

A process, of course, that wasn’t meant to happen just yet given the way you were forced to give an explanation just before you could come to terms with the other.

Taking one last gulp, your trembling hands put down the glass of water into the nearest counter—they way you were able to do so without dropping it surprises you, as well how your behavior seems to go underneath Matsuo’s radar—looking back onto the man and his deep, accusing eyes, exuding anything but disappointment, if not frustration.

“We did”

“Then why did you abandon master Naoya?”

“Well, I—”

“And this better be a good excuse” he interjects “To have run out like a maddening woman, unbelievable”

How easy it was for his demeanor to fall back into its usual state. Now that you’ve agreed to his requests, Matsuo obtained the impression he could drag you around however he liked, interpreting your willingness as something to abuse, instead of something delicate that you might revoke if provoked.

Of course, that’s not something anyone considers from Naoya’s side of the family, less towards you.

…

…

Maybe.

Or perhaps he genuinely worried for Naoya—his condition was critical, after all, unheard of the always thriving Naoya, presenting an even graver situation when he continuously refused to take his medication without your intervention.

…

…

No. That couldn’t be. Matsuo mustn’t care for his master to that level, correctly presuming his antagonism begins from his desire to belittle you.

But how do you expect to explain the reasoning behind your actions.

A lie should be enough, but it must be convincing enough to stop him from demeaning you any further. Something like “suddenly remembering leaving something on the stove”

… but he’d be able to call your bluff, since there’s nothing on it right now, and his abrupt appearance didn’t give you enough time to gather something either.

Shall you tell the truth, then? That the reason you ran away was because of your fear of emotional confrontation? 

You’d only get laughed at.

That you were afraid of seeing Naoya cry? 

You’d get laughed at and called crazy. 

Perhaps you should’ve anticipated a witness to your abrupt exit, or that he’d remain around to see you actually comply with his request—”just in case”. Your judgment, however, was to be clouded the very moment you saw Naoya act… like that for the first time in your life.

His tears still remain imprinted in the back of your eyes—his “weakness”, his sentiments, completely overruling the unbudging image of a cruel, cold man who could only care for himself.

[spellbook-gayboy]

Drabble 48~

48.

"Ha! You're telling me!" Kyle laughed. He dabbed at his forehead, and winced slightly when they came back spotted with blood. "God, I musta come close to kickin' the bucket 'bout a hundred times by now!" He mused, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Still, invulnerability has its perks and all- gah, what the shit, Red?!"

Pavel lifted his foot off of Kyle's boot, noting the red smear that spread over it. "Invulnerability? The hole in your foot seems to disagree with you, pretty boy!" The speedster sat next to him, looking out over the devastated landscape in front of them. "Did you hear the news?"

"What, from the Pacific? I heard MacArthur and the others captured Luzon. From what Colonel Lake guessed, they'll be at Manila before the end of next January." Kyle answered. "And the hole? Last I checked, most of the Nazis we fought so far come at you with a rifle or a knife. They don't shoot lasers out their fuckin' eyes and punch you through a wall!"

Pavel nodded. He caressed his shoulder, pain flashing in his eyes as his hand ghosting over the scars left behind. "Yes. The superpowered Nazis. When the hell did that happen?"

"You still hurting from that lightning fucker, Red?"

"I'll live. Still, why am I always the one they go after first?" Pavel groaned, annoyed by the fact. "Is it because I'm a socialist? Because I'm Jewish? Both?"

Kyle blinked. "Maybe. They are Nazis, after all. Or maybe it's cause they know they can actually hurt you. They go after Brianna too, and it ain't just because she's from Jamaica. I mean, me and Ross and Holly? We can take tank shots to the face and not get a scratch. You two? Not so much."

"Hmm... who knows? Still, it's strange how long it's been since we got here. Feels like it was just yesterday that we were charging up that beach at Anzio. Now we're in the Fatherland, the lion's den. We're on their turf, and we're just in time to meet Hitler's answer to us. Supervillains." The word felt strange on his tongue, a new and frightening concept to grapple with.

"Supervillains. Never thought anything like that could exist outside a comic book!" Kyle laughed flatly, his face betraying the trepidation he felt inside. "Y'know, it feels like... my head's inside out. I mean, when the war ends, what happens to us? Do we just disappear, go home and try and act normal again? I'm nothing like I used to be, Red. My parents barely recognised me the last time they saw me, and I don't mean physically!"

Pavel looked at Kyle, concern on his face. "I don't know. If you'd told me five years ago that I'd be outrunning the sound barrier one day, I'd have called you crazy! But... you're right. The world's different now. I've watched a woman scream so loud, it shatters concrete. It feels... surreal, sometimes. Like I've fallen into Wonderland."

"You're telling me." Kyle dropped the cigarette on the ground, crushing it under his heel. "Oh well... we should be heading back."

"Yeah. Let's go." Pavel murmured. He couldn't decide which fate would be worse: 1) To never come home at all, to fall in one battle or another in France or Germany, and be carried home in a casket, or 2) To go home finally, to visit his parents in their dingy little home in Leningrad, maybe just in time for all of them to celebrate Rosh Hashanah, only for it to ring hollow from everything he'd endured, numbed to the joy and light of his faith by the multitude of horrors forced upon him. The bodies, the devastation, the sheer evil on display... was there some secret third option? One where he emerged from the din unscathed, able to throw himself back into his studies, into his faith once more?

He hoped that was a possibility. He really hoped it was.

[hydrus]

Version 571

windows

zip

exe

macOS

app

linux

tar.zst

I had a simple week working on some quality of life and background stuff. There are special install instructions this week!

full changelog

new build

tl;dr: If you use the Windows or Linux .zip or .tar.zst 'Extract' releases, you have to do a clean install! (https://hydrusnetwork.github.io/hydrus/getting_started_installing.html#clean_installs). If you are a Windows installer/macOS App/source user, you do not need to do a clean install; just update as normal.

The future build test went well, so I am folding the updates into the main build. The above releases are updated from Python 3.10 to 3.11, and Qt (UI) and OpenCV (image processing) are moved to newer versions. There aren't any super important changes, but a bunch of little things should work better or be a bit faster.

Unfortunately, the new libraries cause a dll conflict with v570 and earlier (basically the executable sees the py310 dlls beside the py311 ones and gets confused), so we need to clear the install directory of the old files. Just do the clean install and you should be fine!

You don't have to do it for the other modes because: the Windows installer basically does a clean install every time; the macOS App is always enclosed in its own thing doesn't have to worry about old files; and running from source doesn't care about dlls in the same way, although you might like to rebuild your venv today, just to catch up your own library versions.

If you do have trouble booting v571, then please revert to your v570 backup and let me know what happened! There were no problems in the test that people tried a couple weeks ago, so I'm not expecting anything much, but I'll jump on any reports. Also, if you have been struggling with some annoying menu or drag and drop bug, let me know if the new version of Qt fixed you.

the rest

The archive/delete filter gets a couple of workflow changes: first, if you finish a filter and there is more than one possible local file service to delete from, those 'commit' buttons are now disabled for 1.2 seconds. This is to catch you from spamming 'enter' through this dialog when it is suddenly different (I've done this myself more than once). Second, if you hate the idea of these buttons being disabled, and you always want to delete from all local file services anyway, please hit the new 'when finishing filtering, always delete from all possible domains' checkbox under options->files and trash, which lets you always have a simple 'commit' dialog that only shows 'delete from all local file services'.

The client now tries to load truncated images by default. The damaged images it now allows might be missing one pixel in the bottom right, or have a few lines of grey at the bottom, or might appear fine but just have some crazy metadata, but they won't, fingers crossed, fail with a 'malformed image' error any more. We had some stability problems with this mode some years ago, so I turned it off and only allowed it on in a debug menu on a per-session basis, but the situation seems to have cleared up, so it is now back on. If you need to turn it off, hit options->media.

Any time you have a normal single column list in the program, e.g. the list of URLs in 'manage urls', you can hit Ctrl+C or Ctrl+Insert and now it'll copy better strings (e.g. without '(1)' decorator cruft), and it'll copy every row you have selected.

I wrote a new emergency help document, 'help my db disappeared.txt', for the install_dir/db folder. If you ever boot up and get the 'this looks like the first time you have run the program' popup, there's now a guide to figure out what the hell happened.

next week

I didn't find the time to get to the 'share' menu rewrite, so I'll try again.